Inheritance
by Willful Redhead
Summary: "Sometimes it seems like you can't get away from your past." She told him. He said nothing at first, wrestling with things she couldn't possible understand, but when he finally spoke his voice held equal measures of gentleness and anger. "Your past shapes you; good and bad. But it can't control you. Not any more."
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: Well, here we all are gathered around the hearth of the Circle Bar Seven once again for story time! I have been happy to see so many stories posting lately. This piece has been running around in my brain for awhile, but felt sort of pinned in by my other stories. The downside of having a clear vision of the future for the McFaddens, it tends to bleed into all your stories, limiting your story lines. But it was pointed out by a wise writer from this very room, that each of my stories can be separate and individual, and just because I wrote one version of the future one time, doesn't mean I can't switch it up in another story. So that's just what I did. I hope you enjoy._

_Ever Willfully,_

_Red_

***7***

HANNAH McFADDEN looked up from where she sat at the kitchen table working on her grocery list. Her two younger brothers-in-law stepped into the room and stood before her expectantly.

"What?" She asked immediately suspicious.

"You busy?" Guthrie asked.

"Why?"

Guthrie sighed and turned to his older brother Ford. "You do it. She's in a mood. I can tell."

"What is that supposed to mean?" She glared at the fifteen year old.

"Shut up, Guthrie." Ford said. "Don't pay any attention to him. He's got no sense, you know this."

"Is this some routine, you two have been working on?" She sighed, setting aside the pencil in her hand. "Don't make a production of it, fellas - just spit it out."

"I told you." Guthrie said to Ford. "We missed our window of opportunity."

"Window of opportunity?" Hannah's dark brows wrinkled in confusion. "Guthrie James, I swear you are just _trying_ to irritate me."

"Listen, I appreciate that you miss Adam when he's gone, but it has only been two days! He'll be back by the end of the week."

"I am not in a mood." She grumbled. "At least I wasn't three minutes ago before you two came in here and . . .oh, for pity's sake! What do you want?"

"To take you to dinner." Ford grinned.

"And a movie." Guthrie added.

"What?"

"Come on, it's just three of us. We'll go into town, get something to eat and then watch a movie." Ford told her.

Hannah considered the two of them. "What is the movie?"

"Oh, well, we hadn't really . . ."Guthrie mumbled.

"Oh, yes you have. I suppose dinner is to butter me up?"

"I told you, I'm not asking her." Ford said with his arms folded.

"You are such a coward." Guthrie said glaring at his older brother.

"I'm seventeen." Ford pointed out. "Chances are I could get in."

"Like Paul's gonna forget how old you are." Guthrie complained. "This town is too damn small."

"Nice language." Hannah said. "Do you fellas need me here for this argument?"

"Sorry, Hannah." Ford turned from Guthrie to face her again. "It doesn't matter if you say no, we still want to take you out to dinner, but we were sort of hoping to go see Fright Night. Only . . ."

"Fright Night?" She sighed. "It's rated R?"

They nodded their heads.

"There's no way, I can sign off on that. Isn't there something else playing?"

"Some lame girl movie." Guthrie said, but watching his sister-in-law's expression change, he immediately regretted it.

"Girl movie? Because something made for girls or about girls would be boring or dumb?" She asked rising.

"Jesus! Guthrie! Why couldn't you just keep your mouth closed! I told you! Let _me _do the talking!" Ford turned on his brother. "Look, Hannah, never mind. Let, Guth and me take you out to dinner. Forget about the movie."

"Yeah, forget about what I said, too." Guthrie added. "I'm sorry, Hannah." He turned to Ford. "I _told_ you this was a dumb idea!"

Hannah glanced at the clock on the wall. "Well, did you boys get your chores finished?"

"Yes, ma'am." They responded immediately.

"It would be nice to get out." She said thoughtfully. "Alright, you fellas give me a minute to change, and I'll let you buy me dinner, but no movie. Your brother would never let me hear the end of it if I let you two talk me into taking you to some R movie. That's more Brian's kind of thing."

"Adam told Brian if he ever took us to another R movie, he'd make him sleep in the barn for the winter."

"Ah, ha." She said smiling. "So, you've got a history of bamboozling your warden into taking you to the movies."

"You aren't our warden." Ford offered.

"Don't try and sweet talk me, Ford. I won't change my mind about the movie." She turned to leave the room, but paused to say. "I don't want Adam to put _me_ out in the barn all winter!"

Guthrie slumped and sat in the chair. "I knew it wouldn't work." He sighed, resting his chin on his hand. "Man, everyone's seen the movie but me."

"Looks like it's gonna stay that way, too." Ford told him. "At least we get to go into town. Maybe we'll find some girls."

"With Hannah?"

"Now, who's the one that's in a mood?" Ford gave his brother a push. "Come, on, go get your piggy bank. I've got a feeling Hannah's gonna want something fancy."

***7***

William Hannigan leaned against the counter at the mercantile. The store was nearly abandoned. It was generally abandoned, although a couple of tourists usually wandered through on their way somewhere else. One time, a bus had broken down just outside of town, and the store had been filled with teenagers on their way to a bible camp. Today only one stranger had come through, and he had only bought a bottle of Jack Daniels. It was the usual late afternoon gathering: Will, Ben, Ed and Peter. They were covering their favorite topic - whose team sucked the most.

"I'm just saying, that there is no way they would've got anywhere close to playoffs, so you acting like a torn ligament would've made any difference." The circle of men all turned with expectation toward the target of Will's derision.

"You don't know that. There's no way you can know that!" Ben shook his head at him.

"You are just saying things because of how ashamed you are. Your team was 15th! You know what that means? There are eleven other teams that are worse than us, but every single one of them is better than that sad band you follow." Will responded.

The two other men laughed, wisely staying out of the decades old fight between their friends.

"You are just mean-spirited, Ben." Will complained.

Ben laughed, and nodded his head agreeing.

"You better get home, Will, 'fore Sue comes looking for you." Ed said pointing at the clock on the wall. "You know what happened last time." He snickered.

"I guess I better." Ben agreed. He patted his pockets absent-mindedly and then glanced around.

"What's wrong?" Ben asked.

"Do you see my keys anywhere?"

"You lost your keys again." Ed said looking around.

They looked all around but couldn't find them anywhere.

"You sure you didn't leave 'em in the truck?" Ben asked.

"No, I had them in my hand when I walked in. I usually set them on the counter by the door."

"Maybe someone picked them up accidently." Ben offered.

"Maybe. I don't mind the keys so much. It was just my truck key, and I got a spare at home, but I put my five year chip on there." He shook his head. "I worked damn hard to earn that stupid thing. I hate losing it."

"Five year?" Ed asked perplexed.

"I've been sober five years." Will said straightening.

"Those keys will turn up." Ben said reassuringly. "What would anyone want with a key to that death trap you call a truck?"

"And who would want a five year chip?" Will agreed.

"Come on," Ed said. "I'll drive you home."

***7***

Hannah McFadden step outside into the streets of downtown Murphys. Actually, not streets of downtown Murphys, but street. Singular - not plural. She sighed, the late evening sunlight slanting just right so that it blinded her temporarily. She was waited as her younger brothers chatted to two girls who'd come into Marie's just as they were finishing their dinner.

She turned to walk down the sidewalk to the jeep, when a man stepped in front of her. She couldn't make out his face at first, and then the light shifted and her eyes grew wide.

"Wha . . . what . . ." She stuttered unable to speak.

Just then, Guthrie and Ford stepped out of the diner and walked to where she stood frozen.

"Hey, Hannah!" Guthrie called. "What about some ice cream?" He stopped seeing the stranger.

"It is you." The man said his voice full of surprise. "I should've known. I've seen those eyes before."

"What do you want?" She asked, her tone so sharp and bitter that both Ford and Guthrie froze, glancing at one another anxiously.

"Hannah, what's going on?" Guthrie asked while at the same time Ford said, "Who are you?" as he moved to step in front of Hannah.

"My name's Jim Moss, and you look much too young to be my son-in-law, but too old to be my grandson. You a friend of the family?" He asked with an outstretched hand.

"Moss?" Guthrie said surprised, and turning to look at Hannah.

"Not a friend of the family." Ford said not taking the hand offered. "We are the family." But he offered no further explanation.

"Well, I uh" He hesitated briefly , but then regained his equilibrium, a bright smile returning to his face. "I'm Hannah's father, so if you are the family, then I guess we are family too."

***7***

Guthrie cringed, sinking down lower in his seat, closing his eyes. He glanced over at Ford, who watched the screen, his eyes huge with horror.

"Ford, I don't think we should've . . ." Guthrie whispered.

"Shh." Ford said. "She said it was fine."

"I know but, he just shows up out of nowhere? You ever once hear her talk about him?"

They sat together in the dark theater, and the man in front of them turned around to glare as Guthrie whispered to his older brother.

"No, but what are we gonna do. She told us to go. She paid for us to get in!" Ford sounded as frustrated as Guthrie felt.

"I've been wanting to see this movie forever." Guthrie said softly to himself. He set his bucket of popcorn down on the floor. "Ford, what should we do?"

The man turned around again, glaring, this time a finger to his lips.

"I don't know. I wish Adam were home." Ford continued after the man turned back around. "What are we supposed to do? We can't just eavesdrop while they talk! I mean she sent us away."

"I don't want to be here." Guthrie said.

"Me either." Ford agreed.

"So, leave!" The man in front of them turned around and whispered fiercely at them.

"Alright, alright." Ford said, rising. "We're going."

Guthrie followed him out of the small theater. They stood side-by-side in the empty lobby, unsure.

"What now?" Guthrie asked.

"Well," Ford shrugged, indicating the door leading outside. "I guess the worst that happens is she yells at us."

"She's yelled at us before." Guthrie said following his older brother. "Nothing to worry about then."

"I got a bad feeling about this whole thing." Ford confessed.

"You and me, both, brother."

***7***

Hannah leaned against the jeep, her arms folded protectively across her chest. She glanced around hoping that all of Murphys wasn't out to watch as she talked to a stranger. He said nothing, standing before her, waiting. Finally, she could take his silence no more.

"What do you want?" She asked sharply.

"That's the best hello you can give after all these years." He grinned and she was surprised to see it revealed a dimple as he did so. She glanced away as a memory of Adam reaching out to touch her cheek as she laughed flashed in front of her eyes. _"You got the sweetest dimple when you smile, darlin'!"_ She shook herself free of the memory, and continued to glare at the man who stood before her.

"What kind of hello were you hoping for?" Her voice was harsh even to her own ears, but he said nothing in response. "If you want money, we haven't got it, leastways, not to spare."

He still didn't respond, choosing instead to look off into the hills in the distance. Finally, he turned back to her, and grinned.

"I forgot how pretty it is here. Too bad that wasn't enough to make up for being in the middle of nowhere! I'm surprised to find you here still. I would've thought you couldn't wait to get away from Granddaddy's farm."

"We sold the farm long time ago, and left too."

"I figured that out, when I knocked on the door and a stranger opened it." He said with a chuckle.

"You weren't expecting Mama waiting there for you still?" Her eyes grew wide with shock, and anger. "Mama's dead."

"Yeah," His response was soft. "I know that."

She raised one dark eyebrow wondering how he knew. Did they still notify husbands even if they were ex-husbands? Then again, she wasn't sure they had ever actually divorced. She sighed.

"What do you want?" She repeated.

"Still stubborn as ever I see, Hannah. Gracie said I would be crazy to come here."

"You should've listened to her."

"Yeah, well, your sister and I, sort of had falling out." He explained. "You know how she gets."

"No, I don't." Hannah replied bitterly. "You made damn well sure of that."

"Look . . ." He began, but Hannah raised a hand cutting him off.

"I'm not doing this, not now, not here in front of all of Murphys. I don't need this, okay?"

"Fine. Where can we talk? When can we talk?" He stepped in front of her as she moved to walk past him.

"Oh, it's up to me, now?" She could feel her anger building.

"I just want to talk to you, that's all." He said lifting a hand to reach out and grab a hold of her arm to keep her from leaving.

The motion of his hand to her arm, was all that Ford saw when he and Guthrie approached from around the corner. A wave of rage passed over him, as he saw it, and he found himself running to her. Hannah's face was clearly frightened, and he covered the distance between them quickly, but not before Guthrie rushed passed him, beating him there.

"Get your goddamn hands off her!" Guthrie yelled, shoving the older man hard.

"Wait, wait!" Hannah said, moving to step in.

"What's your problem, junior?" Jim Moss said as he staggered back. He regained his balance and moved closer to them again.

"Get back!" Ford said.

"Easy, fellas." Hannah said stepping in front of Guthrie. "It's fine. I'm fine. That's enough."

"You watch it." Guthrie seized, shaking a finger at the older man.

"Gotta it, pal." He said sarcastically.

"Get in the jeep, boys. Let's go home." Hannah said, but neither Ford nor Guthrie moved. "Now." She hissed at them.

"Yes, ma'am." They said in near unison, but neither one of them took their angry gaze off of Jim Moss.

"Jesus, Hannah, what did you tell them about me?" He asked.

She turned to walk to the passenger side of the jeep, as Ford turned the engine over. "I didn't tell 'em one damn thing." She said as she climbed into the seat. "There was never anything to say."

"Wait!" He called as the jeep pulled away from the curb. "I just wanna . . ."

But whatever it was that Jim Moss wanted, was swallowed in the roar of the engine.


	2. Chapter 2

THE GIANT moon hung over the silent Circle Bar Seven. Although, the sky was clear now, you could see the hint of storm clouds gathering. Hannah glanced at the clock on her nightstand: 2:47 a.m. She sighed and ran her hand over the empty space beside her. It was Tuesday now, Adam and the rest of the brothers would be home Saturday afternoon or Sunday morning. The empty days stretched out in front of her. She had given up any pretense of sleeping. She couldn't seem to get her eyes to close, or her mind to stop. Throwing back the covers, she slid her feet into her slippers and reached for her robe. At least she wouldn't have to worry about waking up Guthrie if she went downstairs. He had taken over Evan's bed while his brother was gone.

She stepped out into the hall, and glanced down to the boy's bedroom listening, but her ear was met with silence. She fought the temptation to peek in at the two of them. Adam always teased her about her maternalistic tendencies, but it made her feel happy to see them safe, curled in sleep. She worried about them and not just because the work they did was dangerous, but more than that. She worried about whether the latest long-haired, blue-eye girl would shatter their hearts, or they could pass their chemistry test, or if their best friend would pass them a joint and send their lives spiraling into disaster. Adam would laugh and tease her, but as much as she worried, he worried a million times more.

Instead, this time she padded down stairs, and wrapping herself in her parka, went out onto the porch. She gazed up at the stars wondering if Adam were looking at the sky right now. She was restless and lonesome, and understood the source of her sleeplessness, but her thoughts drifted to Adam and not to her father. She wouldn't think of her father at all.

She was not surprised to hear the door open, and look up to see Guthrie. He always seemed to have sixth sense about her. He was lovingly protective. She had no doubts about her relationship with any of her brothers-in-law, but there was a special connection with the youngest McFaddens.

"You've got a physics test tomorrow. You should be asleep." She said without looking up.

"You should be asleep too." Guthrie responded, sitting down on the first porch step.

"I don't have a test in the morning." She shook her head, and then sat beside him on the porch, marveling at his bare feet. "Aren't your feet freezing?"

"It's not that cold." He remarked. He glanced over at her. "Ford and me, we were . . ."

"It's nothing to worry about, Guth. I'm fine." She interrupted him. He studied her thoughtfully. "Really," She smiled at him.

"We are kind of worried."

"I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."

He sighed, but grinned. "You are a _tiny_ girl, Hannah, and we know you can take care of yourself, but . . ." He hesitated. "You once told me he was dead."

"I don't want to talk about any of this." She said rising. "It's . . .I can't . . ."

"I'm sorry." Guthrie rose and stepped quickly to her. "We were just worried and Adam's gone, so . . . I just wanted to . . ."

She turned to him, a soft hand on his cheek. "I know, Guth. But I'm fine, really. And as for him," She sighed again, "He might as well be dead." She met his eyes. "I didn't mean to lie, Guthrie. It's just pretty complicated."

"I get that."

"Come on," She said wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "Time for bed."

***7***

"What did she say?" Ford whispered when Guthrie returned to their room.

"Not to worry. The usual." Guthrie gratefully climbed back under the covers.

"I wish Adam were home. He wouldn't put up with her independant bullshit."

"What if he comes around again?"

"How am I supposed to know?" Ford asked. "I don't know what to do! But I didn't like him. There's something I don't trust."

"I didn't like the look on her face." Guthrie shuddered remembering. "We could go get Adam."

"She'd kill us." Ford said, shaking his head.. "I'm serious. She would _kill_ us!"

"She'd be ticked, that's for sure. But, if I rode up to get Adam, I wouldn't hurry right back. Maybe by the time I came back she'd have mellowed out."

"Oh! _You're_ going to get him?" Ford exploded. "Leave me behind to suffer!" They both laughed for a few minutes, but then the room grew quiet.

"We'll wait and see. We can always go get Adam." Ford offered after a long silence

"Yeah." Guthrie agreed.

***7***

"I would give anything for real coffee." Were Crane's first words Tuesday morning.

"What's wrong with my coffee?" Brian asked immediately offended.

"Nothing. I like chewing it!" Daniel said laughing. The brothers were gathered around a fire as the sun rose.

"Well, since you've got such refined taste buds," Adam told his younger brother, "You can cook tonight."

"Oh, God, no!" Evan whined. "You know he's just gonna throw together something disgusting so we don't make him cook again. C'mon, Adam."

Brian laughed. "Keep your mouth closed, next time, Danny."

"Shut up, Brian." His younger brother replied angrily. "And how is your girlfriend?" He added with a malicious grin.

"Girlfriend? What?' Evan asked. "I was gone and you got a girlfriend? You?

"Get to work." Brian said angrily.

"Easy, there Brian. Let the boys finish their coffee." Adam said laughing.

"I'm heading out. You all can catch up." Brian stomped off.

"I guess, I hit a nerve." Daniel's brows rose in surprise.

"Knock it off, Danny." Adam warned, but he watched Brian out of the corner of his eye. He knew that he had been spending a lot of time with Caroline, but didn't realize how serious he was. He wondered at it.

It wasn't until that afternoon that he caught Brian alone. They rode side-by-side, and Adam decided he might as well as his cantankerous brother about it.

"So, what is going on with you and Caroline?"

"Oh, God! Daniel can't keep his mouth shut!" Brian groaned. "Don't bug me, Adam."

"Don't get all pissy! I was just asking. Now that Daniel mentioned it, I realized she's the only one you ever go out with nowadays."

"So." Brian replied stubbornly.

"God, you are so difficult." Adam laughed. "So, what? You think maybe you should bring around the house?"

"Oh, hell no! That's the _last_ thing I'm gonna do!" Brian threw a hand in the air. "I _like_ her, Adam. I'm not gonna subject her to McFadden insanity."

"Could seal the deal." Adam offered.

"Yeah! In the wrong direction."

"Aha! So it is serious!" Adam pointed a finger at his brother.

"You are such an asshole! Why can't you just leave it alone?"

"You know I thought I saw you smiling the other day, but I figured I was seeing things. Now, I know why."

"Now you know why." Brian repeated. He sighed in frustration, but then continued nervously "So," He cleared his throat before continuing. "I mean, how did you know, I mean, for sure?"

"Oh, God!" Adam shook his head, laughing still. "You are very serious, then." He paused thoughtfully, smiling even as he remembered. "I don't know. It was like she was the air around me. I couldn't think of anything else, and being away from her felt like suffocating - like something was missing." He blushed glancing over at his brother. "You know?"

"Yeah." Brian agreed. Glancing at his older brother, he paused before finally daring to ask a question that had plagued him for nearly four years. "And you never once thought to mention us?"

"Well, that was stupid." Adam confessed. "But I just couldn't risk it. _You_ know what happened with Emily. We'd dated since spring of junior year, and I couldn't believe it when she just walked away. I mean, I understand it now! She was eighteen for God's sake! But it really hurt." He paused shaking his head. "And the way I felt about her was nothing compared to how I felt about Hannah. I couldn't have managed it. I would've . . ."

"You are just lucky, she didn't run screaming."

"She should've. I still can't believe she didn't! I don't know. When we were first hanging out together, I just spent all my time focused on her, you know? I didn't spend any time thinking about the ranch or the boys. It was like I was sixteen again, and didn't have to worry about any of that. And by the time things got serious, it would've been too complicated to explain it, and to explain why I'd never mentioned it." He shook his head again. "It was probably the stupidest thing that I have ever done in my life."

"I don't know about that," Brian considered. "You've done lots of stupid things."

"And so," Adam continued, ignoring Brian's jabs. "You should bring her home for dinner. Hannah would appreciate the company, if nothing else."

"Yeah, I guess, maybe."

"No, maybe about it, brother. I know that look." Adam grinned. "Invite her to dinner."

He rode off, but Brian held back looking at the hills in the distance. He could see dark storm clouds rolling their way. There was no way around it, before the sun set today they would get drenched. It was going to be a cold, wet, difficult day. He wished he were home or maybe he wished for a home he hadn't been to yet; one still to be created. As the first drops of rain began to fall, he wished, more than anything, that he was standing on Caroline's front porch, waiting for her to open the door.


	3. Chapter 3

HANNAH KEPT watching the door, all Tuesday, half expecting him to show up again. She couldn't decide if she hoped he would, or if she was dreading it. It started to rain just after lunch, and she winced thinking of Adam and his brothers freezing out on the tops. They had hoped the storm would hold off, but it looked like it was gonna be a rough couple of days for them. She hoped they were warm. She hoped they were safe.

Ford had driven the truck to school, since they had both cars, so she didn't need to pick the boys up from the bus stop. She usually picked them up if it were raining. The first time Evan had admitted he actually liked her was a rainy Wednesday when she met them at the bus stop.

"I am _so_ glad Adam married you, Hannah." He had told her as he climbed into the warm jeep. "I swear! He could have married some selfish, mean girl, not someone nice enough to think to drive out and rescue us from a cold walk in the rain!" Of course, Evan was facing a cold walk in the rain now, and there was nothing she could do about it..

It was right around two that the storm really picked up with strong winds. She had gone outside to check on the door to the shed because it had a tendency to break loose. Thankfully, Brian had fixed it before he had left and it was holding, but when she looked up she saw a lamb cross the yard.

The only reason to see a lamb wandering like that was if the fence had fallen down. She scanned the fence line if the distance, and sure enough she could see the section of fence that had blown down. Two other lambs were out, the remaining three huddled in the far corner, oblivious to the great lamb escape. She reached out, grabbing hold of the lamb closest to her and led him into the barn. It took her a good fifteen minutes to grab the other two. She was soaked through, but headed back out into the storm with rope in her hand. She was determined to at least put a temporary fix on the fence before any of the other lambs got out. She figured she could tie off the broken section. It would keep the rest of the lambs from escaping.

The fence was heavy, and it was awkward to lift all alone. Struggling, she wished the boys were home to help her. Her head was down, the wind and driving rain limiting her field of vision, when sudden the fence became lighter and she could shift into place. She looked up, expecting to see Ford or Guthrie but was startled to see her father standing across from her.

"Let me have that rope." He yelled over the storm. "I'll tie it off. It should hold."

Stunned she tossed the rope to him, holding the fence in place with her hip, and watched as he tied off his end of the fence. Pulling out a pocket knife, he cut off the remaining rope, and tossed the rest of the rope back to her.

"Tie your side, too." He glanced around. "Did any of them get out?"

"I got them in the barn. They weren't too hard to catch, except Lady Diana." She answered without thinking.

"Lady Diana?" His eyes grew wide with shock.

"She's pretty stubborn, and never does what you expect her too.." She turned her attention back to the fence and struggled to tie a knot strong enough. She felt his hand on hers, and jumped back in shock. "Thanks." She said as he took over tying the rope.

She stood staring at him, in the middle of the rainstorm, unsure what to do. She could feel the water running down her back in little rivers. He was just as soaked - maybe more so. She glanced around, but saw no car.

"How'd you get here?" She asked.

"Walked." He shrugged. "Everyone in town knew just who you are. I barely opened my mouth to ask and everyone said, 'Oh, that's Hannah.'"

"It's a small town." She explained and just as she said it, a boom of thunder startled them both.

"Could I maybe wait out the storm in the barn?" He asked tentatively. "I won't be any trouble."

"No." Her voice was sharp. "Come inside. There's no sense you freezing out here." She turned and headed to the house, leading him up the back porch and inside.

"You home alone?" He asked glancing around. "They just leave you to work the ranch yourself?"

She ignored his criticism, and reaching into the small laundry room, tossed him a towel, before grabbing one for herself. She shed her raincoat which was drenched and attempted to dry her hair.

"How about some coffee?" She asked.

"Yes! Thank you!" He said, accepting the towel, and settling into a chair.

She poured him a cup, carrying it to the table and setting it in front of him, before pouring one for herself. She didn't sit at the table though, but instead leaned against the counter. "What are you doing out here anyway?"

"I was hoping to have that talk."

She nodded her head, and saying nothing took a sip of coffee.

"I figure you must have questions." He offered.

"Not really."

"Well, I do." He said. "The most I got of anyone in town was that you live at the Circle Bar Seven."

"I do."

"Grace said you got married."

She took another sip of coffee, and glanced at the clock. It was nearly three. The boys would be home by four.

"Look, Hannah, I don't drink anymore. I quit. You don't have to worry about me . . ." He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a key chain. "See that." He pointed. "That's my five year chip. I haven't touched a drop in five years. I didn't come here for money or some kind of scam. I wanted to see you."

"And you've seen me."

"Just like your mother," He said, shaking his head at her. "When you dig in, you don't give up easy."

She set her coffee down, folding her arms across her body. "You can wait out the storm here. I've got chores to manage." She walked out of the room leaving him alone.


	4. Chapter 4

THE LAST thing Guthrie expected to see was Hannah's father sitting at their kitchen table. He jumped up as Guthrie and Ford stepped into the kitchen.

"What are you doing here?" Guthrie demanded, glancing around for Hannah who was nowhere to be seen.

"I, uh, came out to see your . . ." He fumbled unsure how these boys were related to her.

"And the fence blew down, so I helped Hannah fix it. She said I could get dried off in here."

"Uh, huh." The older boy responded but his expression gave every indication that he didn't believe a word. "Hannah?" He called, stepping to the doorway.

"Up here." Her voice drifted toward them from above.

"Go see." Guthrie nodded at Ford, but stayed where he was glaring at Jim Moss, as Ford disappeared.

He studied the older man's face trying to recognize Hannah's features. He could see no resemblance in the older man's tired features.

"So you are her father?" He asked.

"Yes."

"Never heard her mention you." He said derisively.

"I've been away." He answered. "And you are?"

"Family." Guthrie responded tersely. "What'd ya come for?"

"That's between me and Hannah."

Guthrie laughed. "From what I can see there ain't a whole lot between you and Hannah."

Ford came back into the room. "She already fed the lambs and the pigs, but said we can manage ourselves for dinner. She's got a headache."

"She okay?"

"She wasn't talking much." Ford said with a shrug. "You can go grill her if you want, but I doubt she's in the talking mood."

"What about him?" Guthrie gestured across the table toward Jim Moss.

"She said we could feed 'em if we felt so inclined, and that we could put him up in the office in the barn, but she expects him gone by the time we leave for school."

"'So inclined . . '" Guthrie repeated. "Jesus, that's so Hannah." He shook his head. He sighed wishing for the 10,000th time that Adam were home. He looked out the window at the storm outside, and said, "We ought to check the fence lines."

"Yeah, let me get my other coat. This one got soaked today."

"I can help." Moss offered and both boys considered him thoughtfully. "Might as well earn my keep." He added.

Ford nodded at Guthrie. "I guess. At least it'll get him out of the house."

"Yeah, get your coat. I'll tell Hannah."

Guthrie took the steps two at time, grateful for a legitimate excuse to check on her. He pushed open her bedroom door expecting to see her on her bed, but found her standing at the window, looking out. She was wearing one of Adam's sweaters - which was always a sign that she was stressed.

"Hannah?"

"I'm fine, Guth. I just need some space." She said softly, turning to look at him.

"Hey, I got no misogynistic view of you as a helpless girl." He grinned, teasingly at her. "But I thought I'd stop in and say hello all the same."

"Guth," She shook her head, smiling. "Knock it off. I'm fine."

"Well, Ford and me are gonna check the fence lines - that's some pretty strong wind. And we thought we'd drag him along. It'll probably take an hour or two." He told her, adding with a grin, "Not that we have to protect you or anything."

"I'm not hiding out." She said defensively.

"I didn't say you were." He countered. "I just thought maybe you'd appreciate some . . ." He paused thoughtfully, "I thought you'd appreciate some space." He grinned at her, repeating her own words back to her.

"You are trouble." She said shaking a finger at him, a grin crossing her face.

"Hell, yeah!" He grinned back, grateful to see her smile, however brief. "I'll stomp my feet real loud on the porch when we come back - so you have fair warning."

He left her then, knowing that although she wasn't truly alright, she was alright for now. He turned back as he heard her voice, softly calling his name.

"Yes ma'am?" He paused to turn around and face her. She followed him to the doorway, look improbably small in Adam's sweater. The sleeves were so long, that she appeared to have no hands. Her large eyes rested on him, "Thanks, Guth. I really appreciate it. I . . ."

She paused unable to explain herself fully.

"Don't worry 'bout it, Hannah. Me and Ford can manage things, alright."

Another brief smile flitted across her features and she nodded her head at him. He turned away from her, and went back downstairs unable to shake the sick feeling in his stomach. _I wish Adam were here_, he thought.

***7***

James Moss was a surprisingly helpful and hard worker. Two sections of fence had blown down, and the three of them struggled to put everything back into place. The rain had slowed, but the wind was terrible, making all their work difficult. Guthrie and Ford worked in silence, their eyes on Hannah's father.

"You boys are gonna stare a hole right through me." He said to them at last. "How is that you are the only ones here just now? You can't work a ranch this size with just the three of you."

"Our brothers are with the stock in the high country." Ford said indicating the mountains behind them. "We got a nice pasture up there that we use."

"Brothers. So Hannah married your brother?"

"What's it to you?" Guthrie interjected angrily.

"Nothing." He responded. "I just was trying to figure things out."

"It isn't your business unless she says so." Guthrie told him through gritted teeth.

"Easy, there, son. I'm just asking a question." He lifted his hands up in surrender. "You sure you aren't her son?"

"We kind of are." Ford explained with some heat. "She takes real good care of all of us. So don't think you can come in here and . . ."

"And what? Steal your cows? Drive off in that machine you call a truck?" He shook his head. "I haven't got any ulterior motives, fellas. I haven't seen my daughter since she was younger than you. I made some mistakes, but I just need a chance." He watched their faces thoughtfully, and nearly grinned as he said, "Don't you think she deserves a father?"

"You're leaving in the morning." Guthrie said his voice as cold as the air around them. "So don't get confused thinking this is more than waiting out a storm."

"Right."

***7***

At dinner, Ford was unsure of the proper etiquette, but then again - what would the etiquette be for hosting the estranged father of your sister-in-law/mother? Should they sit down to dinner with him? Should they ignore him out of solidarity to Hannah? Despite telling them they were on their own for supper, she had a ham cooked and waiting for them upon their return, but Hannah was nowhere to be seen. He understood that she had cooked the ham to say thank you for what he and Guthrie were trying to do - that she was telling them something about how she had appreciated them dragging her father out of the farmhouse and away from her. It made him feel a little sick to watch Jim Moss shovel in mouthful after mouthful without even understanding what he'd been given.

"Oh, Lord. That's the best ham, I've ever eaten." Jim Moss said pushing himself back from his plate.

"Hannah's the best cook around these parts." Guthrie said, unable to contain his pride.

"Her Mama was a good cook, too."

"She died?" Ford asked. He'd once heard Hannah say something to Adam about her mother's funeral being in a little church like the one they went to in town.

"Yeah, must have been four or five years ago."

"That's just before she came here." Guthrie said surprised.

"Yeah?" Jim Moss raised an eyebrow. "Well, my wife's family was from over in Vallecito. Hannah's grandaddy had a ranch - smaller than this one, but they sold it off when Hannah was in grade school."

"You left?" Ford asked.

"Now, you're treading into country you got no right to travel." He shook his head. " The last time I saw Liz was when Hannah was about ten years old, I guess."

"You divorced her?" Guthrie said flatly.

"How many brothers you got anyway?" He asked changing the subject.

"There's seven of us." Ford said watching Guthrie.

"Seven?" His eyes grew wide. "Your Daddy run the ranch?"

"He did. Adam runs it now." Guthrie's voice was cold.

"Adam? Who is he?"

"Well, now you are traveling into country you got no right to explore." Ford explained bitterly.

"He's Hannah's husband and when he gets home, he's gonna kick your ass." Guthrie said with a malevolent grin.

Jim Moss considered this thoughtfully. "Well, as you said I'll be gone by morning. Will he be back before then?"

"Maybe." Ford answered before Guthrie responded with the truth. "We'll show you where the barn is so you can get a good night's rest." He rose up reaching for his coat.

"Yeah, sure. I'll sleep great waiting for this Adam to return and hand me my ass." He said sarcastically as he followed them out to the barn.

***7***

"I'm serious, Ford." Guthrie whispered fiercely. "One of us should stay up and keep watch."

"The house is locked. He can't get in." Ford explained.

"You locked everything?" Guthrie asked again.

"Yes. Dead bolt and all." Ford sighed in frustration. "What about Hannah?"

"Won't answer. Lights are out." Guthrie shrugged.

"As soon as the light hits the earth, I'm riding out to the tops." Ford said seriously. "I don't care what she says, we are getting Adam."

"She's gonna be pissed at us." Guthrie said regretfully.

"Adam's gonna be more pissed if we just sit here and do nothing."

"I don't like any of this! She ever say anything about him to you?" Guthrie asked.

"Nope. Not much. She told me once about a Christmas when she was really little, but it was nice. But I could tell it made her sad. I never got the idea he was great guy."

"She told me he was dead." Guthrie said.

"What?" Ford's eyes widened in surprise.

"The first week she came, but a lot later, she told me a story about him being gone." He sighed. "When I asked her about it, she said that he'd left when she was ten and never came back, so he was as good as dead to her." He shrugged. "It made sense."

"Hannah doesn't lie."

"No, but I think it's kind of complicated. She didn't lie, Ford, not really. I think maybe it was easier to think of him as dead, you know? I mean she barely knew us then, and was still in shock that we all lived here."

"I guess we could cut her some slack, then." Ford considered thoughtfully. "I guess you are right. This is all too damn complicated, Guthrie. I don't know what to do."

"Me neither. She keeps saying she's fine, but she isn't. And why the hell did he come here? That's why we need to go get Adam."

"I'll go first thing, but you'll have to manage morning chores by yourself."

"Stop acting like I'm some kindergarten kid. I can manage the chores! That's the least of our problems! But I'm not going to school! There's no way in hell, I'm leaving her alone."

"No! Don't you dare leave." Ford rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "It'll take me at least half a day to catch up to them, and then just as long for Adam to come home. That's a long time.

Tell her I went in early, if she asks, and that I'm helping at the vet clinic - that'll buy you some time."

"Lie? To Hannah?"

"Well, you want to tell her first thing we ignored her and went to get Adam anyway?"

"You got a point. You think he's gonna leave?"

"I don't know but if he stays or goes, Adam would want to be here - whatever she says." Ford told him.

"I kind of hope he leaves, but I don't know what she wants him to do."

"I'm not sure she knows either, Guth."

"I'll feel better with Adam here. He can see right through her bullshit. I wish . . ." Guthrie shook his head frustrated. "Maybe he is sorry. Maybe he wants to make it right."

"Maybe." Ford agreed. "I just got this feeling it isn't gonna be that easy."

***7***

The office in the barn contained a small cot which had a sleeping bag and several blankets on it, but even with that it was still freezing cold. Jim Moss considered the truck key in his hand before removing it from the key chain and burying it in the hay. He tucked the small circular chip, rubbing his thumb over it. He tucked it into his pocket, and hunkered down further into the sleeping bag. He let the bottle in his hand slip from his fingers and fall to the floor. It landed with a dull thud against the other empty bottle already resting in the hay.


	5. Chapter 5

GUTHRIE MANAGED to avoid Hannah until about nine in the morning. He spent the morning outside in the cold working. He was really just trying to remain unseen for as long as possible but after awhile his fingers were numb with cold, and so he went inside. He was trying to warm up with a cup of coffee, sitting alone in the kitchen with one eye on the window. There was no movement from the barn. He was so focused on the barn door that he didn't hear her step into the kitchen until it was too late.

"Just what do you think you are doing, young man?" She stood glaring at him a hand on her hip.

"I'm drinking a cup of coffee." Sometimes with Hannah it was better to meet her anger head on. "It was real peaceful, too, 'til you started yelling at me."

"School started and hour ago." She pointed at the kitchen clock which read 9:17.

"Actually, it started an hour and twenty-seven minutes ago."

"Guthrie James! I swear if you don't start . . ."

Her cheeks were flushed with fury, but Guthrie cut her off, rising to stand in front of her.

"And _I swear_, Hannah, knock off this don't-worry-about-me-I'm-fine-crap. I am NOT leaving you home alone. I'm NOT. I don't give a damn what you say or how mad you get, either. You can ground me and take away driving privileges. I'm not going to school."

"Guthrie," Her eyes were wide. "This isn't . . ."

"If you say it isn't my business, you'd be lying. We're family. You know that's the truth, and I'm not leaving you alone with him around. It wouldn't be right."

"Okay." She said softly, her eyes down. "But . . "

"No." He interrupted again. "No 'buts' Hannah. I'm staying with you - to make sure you are as okay as you keep telling me you are. I don't trust him."

"It doesn't matter. He's leaving."

"Yeah? Well, I'm gonna make sure of it." His voice was firm but then he added thoughtfully, "If that's what you want him to do."

"I . . . I . . . I don't know what I want." She confessed, finally looking up at him. Inside Guthrie felt simultaneously sick and angry. He hated when she was upset; hated the thought of someone causing her pain, but externally he kept his face calm. Stepping closer, putting a hand on her arm.

"That's why I'm staying." He said firmly.

He was surprised when she wrapped her arms around him, her head resting against his shoulder.

"Thanks, Guth." She said softly.

"Sure." He told her, his voice suddenly husky. "It'll be okay."

She hugged him tightly to her, and then releasing him said, "I was gonna work on that dresser. You wanna help?"

"Sure." He said and followed her out onto the screened porch.

She had found a beat up dresser in the barn. When she'd told Adam that she wanted to refinish it and bring it inside, he'd laughed. "Sweetheart," he'd told her. "I'm pretty sure Evan used it for target practice with his first BB gun." But she had been determined, and had been sanding it down, layer after layer.

They worked together in near silence most of the morning. It comforted Guthrie to work on a simple problem like making the surface of the dresser smooth again. He worked on one end, while Hannah worked on the other.

"He still in the barn?" She finally asked after they'd been working for a few minutes.

"He was." Guthrie watched her, wondering what he should say.

"Don't ask, Guth. I know . . ." She paused in her work, and looked up at him. "I know you want to do something to fix it, but . . .I can't." She turned back to the dresser. "Just don't ask, okay?"

"Okay."

***7***

Jim Moss felt his biggest problem was that the ranch was too damn far outside of town. He figured that for now he could probably use the barn as his home base, but it would take him half a day to walk into town and back. He viewed the truck and jeep parked beside the house with envy. But he recognized there was no way in hell, he could convince her to let him borrow anything. He gathered the empty bottles, and finding a half-empty barrel of feed, he buried them. He crossed the yard, and walked up the back steps wishing he had a drink in his hand, as he swung open the door.

"Morning." He said, trying not to wince at the sound of his own voice.

The younger boy, Guthrie, was with her on the screened-in porch. They appeared to be attempting to restore an old dresser.

"I thought you were leaving." The boy said sharply.

"It wouldn't be right not to say thank you for your warm, friendly hospitality." He leaned hard on each word, sarcastically.

"Don't!" Hannah's voice was angry and sharp, and the boy's eyes widened in surprise.

"Easy there." He said to her with his hands raised. "I was just . . ."

"I _know_ what you are doing. And he's . . .," She pointed at Guthrie. "You aren't gonna treat him like that. Just don't."

He said nothing, surprised by her anger. She looked so much like Liz that it was easy to imagine she was just like her. It had thrown him at first, but listening to the surety in her voice, he recognized that although she might mirror her mother in looks, her spirit was all her own..

"Guth, did you give that ewe it's medicine?" Her voice softened as she turned to the boy who still stood frozen by the sharp exchange.

"Hannah, I'm not . . ." He began, but she raised her eyebrows at him.

"Go check on that ewe, and make sure that gate is going to hold. I'll be right here."

Jim watched completely fascinated. He couldn't figure it out. They had said yesterday that their brothers were out with the stock. So he had to be her brother-in-law? He seemed young to be a brother-in-law, and the connection between the two of them seemed pretty intense. He wasn't gonna make any headway if the boy was convinced that he was up to no good. They boy had said that she had come four or so years ago. Apparently, she had made a tremendous impact on the family in those few years. He had to admit he was a little impressed. Of course, he had always been pretty good at getting people to do what he wanted; maybe it was him she took after.

The boy glared at him as he said, "Alright, but I'll be right back."

This sentence was clearly aimed at Jim. He nodded his head, recognizing that the boy needed to feel he was doing something to protect her. He expected her to continue her tirade as soon as the boy was gone, but she stood silent, watching him.

"Well, uh," He said after a long, uncomfortable silence. "I do appreciate you letting me stay out of the rain last night."

"What did you come here for?"

"I was hoping you and me could talk."

She turned from him, stepping through the screened-porch door, into the kitchen. He hesitated briefly and then followed her in. She was sitting at the kitchen table.

"Hannah," He began but she immediately interrupted.

"Why? Why now?" She looked up at him with a steely glare. "I mean it. We don't have any money. And we . . ." She paused, swallowing. "These are good people. They don't need to get dragged into any . . . nonsense."

He lowered himself into a chair across from her. "I understand why you are thinking that; why you are suspicious." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small circular chip, laying it on the table between them.

She looked at it, and then up at him, her eyebrows raised in question.

"That's my five year chip. I haven't had a drink in five years, and I know you won't believe me, but I'm not the same man you knew."

"I was ten when you left." She said sharply. "I've never known you."

"That's how it was." He agreed, looking up at her with wide puppy dog eyes. "But that doesn't have to be how it is."

***7***

The rain finally let up and when he surveyed the damage, Guthrie recognized that they were going to have to replace one of the gates. He decided he could use a trip to town for a strong set of hinges an excuse to drive Hannah's Dad back to town.

When he'd come back inside, he'd found Hannah working again on the dresser. He looked around trying to see where her father had gone.

"I told him he could take a shower." She said without looking up.

"I gotta get some hinges for the gate." He said to her. "I'll give him a lift back to town, okay?"

She looked up then, her eyes bright with relief. "Yeah, thanks Guth. You don't mind?"

"No, I don't mind. But an apple pie would sure be nice to come home too." He grinned at her, but she just turned back to her sanding.

"I'm sure it would." She agreed.

***7***

The only sound was the gravel under the tires of the jeep as they rode toward town. Guthrie kept glancing at the man beside him. He supposed, from the side, his jaw line was a little bit like Hannah's but he couldn't really see a strong resemblance.

"She favors her mother." Jim Moss said without looking at him. "That's what folks always said anyway."

"I don't want to talk about her with you." Guthrie said sharply.

"Well, shall we talk about baseball then?" Jim asked.

"We don't need to talk at all." Guthrie answered.

"Oh, come on. It's a good forty minutes into town, isn't it? You gonna ignore me the whole way?" He turned and looked out the window, watching the hills roll past. He looked at Guthrie who continued to frown, his eyes on the road. "You know, I heard once that they found gold in these hills a long time ago."

"Yeah, they did." Guthrie answered.

"Think there's still some out there?" Jim Moss asked, turning to look at Guthrie.

"There is."

"You sound awfully sure of yourself." His tone was doubting; mocking.

"My brothers and I found some a few years back."

"You never did."

"We did. There was a whole article in the paper about it." Guthrie said defensively.

"Yeah? How much?"

"Not much." Guthrie laughed. "Well, the mine caving in on us, sort of distracted us from finding more."

"Caving in? Now, I know you are making stuff up!"

"You calling me a liar?" Guthrie's anger was intense.

"No, I just . . ." He replied apologetically. "You got admit a gold mine and a cave-in is hard to believe."

"I guess. But it happened."

"You get to keep the gold or did you lose it in the cave in?" Jim asked him.

"We got it out. Wasn't a whole lot - enough for a ring."

"A ring?"

"Yeah, Hannah wears it, on her right hand." Guthrie looked at him. "Not that it is any of your business."

"No, it ain't." He turned and looked out the window. "Now, my granddad told me a story once about a mine 'round these parts that was filled with gold. He said ten men went in, but only one came out to tell the story. He said there was a dragon inside guarding all the gold."

"That's a kid's story." Guthrie scoffed.

"Maybe. It kept me from climbing down into mines though."

"Well, the Howling Man mine didn't require you to climb down. It had a big opening you could just walk into. It's boarded up now."

"I bet." Jim said, a careful eye on Guthrie's face. "I bet the owner was real mad you went climbing in his mine."

"We own it." Guthrie said. "Not that it's worth anything. You ask me, you don't need dragons to guard mines - one cave in will keep everybody out."

"I imagine so." Jim agreed. "Still," he said after a time, "with the right equipment you could probably mine the gold."

"Nope. Too risky, and probably not worth the trouble." Guthrie said. "The original mine wasn't built carefully. My brother Brian looked into it. You'd have to start all over. The cost would be enormous."

"Too bad."

Guthrie shrugged and looked over at Jim. "Where you gonna go now?"

"Oh, I don't know." Jim sighed. "I might head to LA. I might stick around and hope for better days with Hannah. Your brother is coming home soon?"

"Supposed to be back at the end of the week."

"Well, you think maybe he'd . . ."

"Hell, no!" Guthrie said laughing. "Adam isn't real patient in general, and when it comes to Hannah . . . well, you are better off in LA or maybe Alaska! I wasn't kidding. He'll kick your ass!"

"So, you don't think maybe I could talk to him?"

"No." Guthrie said firmly. "And I think you missed your chance with Hannah."

"I guess."

Later, after he'd dropped Jim Moss off, Guthrie almost felt sorry for the old man. Watching him walk down Main Street alone, it was hard not to have sympathy for him. Maybe he had stopped drinking. Maybe he did just come for a chance to make things right.

He watched the older man in the rear view mirror until he became a small spot in the distance. He hoped that the stress and trouble he'd brought with disappear with him. He hoped that things could settle back to normal. He hoped that Hannah would understand why they'd gone to find Adam and bring him home. He hoped that she would settle into Adam's arms and somehow recover the shock of her father's unexplained arrival. He hoped it was over.

***7***

Jim Moss continued his way to the end of Main Street and then turned on a side road, glancing over his shoulder to see if the jeep was gone. When he was sure that Guthrie was gone, he stopped and stepped off the road. He travelled a few feet back until he found a log, and sat down. He was grateful the rain had stopped. It would be miserable to spend a night out in the rain. He figured he could wait until morning to make his way back through town.

He looked up into the sky as it began to grow dark. He figured he'd better find some place to hunker down for the night. _Adam should be home at the end of the week_. He sure hoped he could get in and get out before his son-in-law got wind of him being in town. He pulled a folded paper out of his pocket, studying the sketch again. The thing about small towns was that people hardly ever locked their doors. He sighed. Still, he didn't think there would be much. There were only a couple of houses that looked worthwhile. He wondered about the mine. Maybe the kid would wanna show him the way - he was young enough to want to prove his manhood. Besides, he was pretty good at getting what he wanted.

Hannah was another problem. She certainly wasn't like her mother. He hadn't counted on her being so strong-willed. Of course, he should have remembered her stubborness. It was the reason he'd left her behind. Still, he believed her when she said they didn't have much money. The ranch wasn't too impressive. They didn't even have a color tv. He didn't find any jewelry in the house either. There was a necklace, but holding it up to the light, he realized it probably wasn't worth much. The broach had seemed more promising. It appeared to be older. But still, two pieces of jewelry wasn't gonna do much. She wore a plain gold band on her left hand, and another on her right. There didn't seem to be much else. 'Course he hadn't had much time to look. Still, if she was anything like her mother, she had some savings tucked away, but he doubted she would be easily convinced to pity him. And it sure didn't sound like the husband would be swayed. On the other hand, if he were sick or injured - she didn't seem the type to turn away someone who was in trouble. That was thing about good-natured people; someone could always use their kindness against them. He reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle of jack, he might as well take a drink before he settled in for the night.


	6. Chapter 6

SHE SHOULD have known that something was up when she hadn't seen Ford all day. It was unusual for her not to see the boys at some point in the day - she should have at least bumped into Ford at breakfast, but the stress of her father had kept her awake all night long, and thrown her off her daily routine. She'd stayed upstairs late in the morning, and had missed breakfast with the boys.

Now the sky was growing dark, and she had just stepped out onto the porch to find Guthrie for an explanation of Ford's absence, when she saw a familiar figure riding in the distance. She shook her head struggling with equal measures of irritation and relief.

She rushed down the steps and across the yard to the barn. "Guthrie James!"

"What?" He asked stepping out into the yard. The look of concern on his face almost caused her to soften. He was clearly worried.

"Explain this!" She said pointing over his shoulder. He turned to where she pointed and saw Adam riding toward them.

"Oh, shit." He said softly before turning around. "Listen, Hannah. . ." He began.

"Am I just some sort of helpless victim?"

Part of recognized that her anger was simply an attempt to avoid her inner turmoil, but she couldn't stop herself. It was so much easier to be angry at Guthrie than to deal with anything else.

Guthrie, wise beyond his years, ignored her, and instead turned to run out to meet his older brother.

"Adam! Hey, Adam!" He called. They met at the edge of the field, and seeing Guthrie, Adam dismounted and hugged his younger brother. Hannah watched as the two brothers walked toward her. She fought a powerful desire to run to Adam, and collapse in his arms - the stress of the last two days just at the surface, but ever stubborn she continued to lean heavily on anger.

"Do you even listen to me when I talk, Guthrie?" She continued her tirade as they approached.

"Hannah," Guthrie began, but Adam shook his head at his younger brother, and handed him the reins to his horse.

"Go on, Guth. I'll let her yell at me, instead." Guthrie laughed and led the horse away into the darkness of the barn.

"Well, hello darling." Adam stood in front of her.

"You didn't have to come home. The boys completely over-reacted." Even as she continued, she found her resolve crumbling. He was just a step away from her now.

"Oh, I'm sure they did. I mean, it is no big deal, right? Your dad shows up every," He paused, pretending to be deep in thought, "I don't know, twenty years, right? I can't understand it either. I mean, Ford rode up to me looking completely panicked! I can't imagine why he would think that seeing your dad would be something to freak out about."

"I didn't freak out." She said softly, stubbornly.

"No, I meant Ford." He smiled sadly at her. "Hannah," his voice was gentle now.

"I didn't." She repeated.

Adam said nothing, just let out a long sigh. She bit at her lip, trying not to think about how much she had missed him; he looked tired and needed a shave, and no doubt a bath, but he stood with the setting sun behind him, a white hat tilted on his head, looking every bit the hero.

"Aren't you gonna at least hug me?" He asked at last. "I missed you, darlin'."

Even as she nodded her head, she could feel herself crumble. She could fool her brothers, and sometimes even herself, but she found it impossible to be anything but honest with Adam.

"I don't know why he's here. Why would he come here?" She whispered as she sank into his strong embrace.

"I don't know, baby." The familiar rumble of Adam's voice comforted her deeply.

"I don't understand it. I don't know what I'm supposed to do? Why? Why did he come here? Why can't he leave me alone?" She asked him, sobbing.

"I don't know darlin'. I don't, but I swear he won't . . ." Adam swallowed hard finding it suddenly difficult to talk. "I won't let him hurt you. I promise it, baby."

***7***

The living room was dark except for one small lamp. Guthrie sat under the small circle of light, a chemistry book in his hand.

"Kind of late to be studying." Adam said, stepping into the room.

"Trying to get caught up." Guthrie explained, as Adam lowered himself into the couch across from him. He closed his book. "She okay?"

Adam sat back with a sigh, "Well, she's sleeping, but I dunno." He shook his head. "What did he say?"

"Nothing. I mean, he didn't explain anything - at least not when I was around."

"When you were around? What do you mean? You left her alone with him?" Adam's face darkened with anger.

"She sent me out."

"So you left her?"

"Jesus, Adam! You ever try to change her mind? She said to go, so I did, and when I asked her about it, she wouldn't say anything! What do you want? We came and got you as soon as we could!"

"You're right, Guth. I'm sorry. I'm just really frustrated I wasn't here." He rose and paced.

"I don't like him, Adam. He's . . . I don't trust him."

"That's what Ford said."

"I don't understand. He left her? Why would he do that?"

"He was a drunk. He drank all the time, and fought with her mother." Adam turned back and faced Guthrie. "He didn't say why he was here?"

"No. I don't know. I was focused on her, you know. He came, and helped us fix the fence line. We put him in the barn for the night, and then the next day I drove him into town. I don't know Adam. He said he wanted to make things right, but I just didn't really trust him, you know?"

"You _drove_ him into town?" Adam sat back down in the chair, leaning forward toward Guthrie.

"Adam," Guthrie moaned. "Seriously, everything going on and _that's_ what you are gonna nit pick?"

"You are fifteen." Adam pointed out.

"Everyone drives! I've been driving around the ranch since I was ten!" Guthrie complained. "It's no big deal."

"Around the ranch is one thing - a highway is another!" He shook his head settling back in his chair. "You think he left?"

"I don't know." Guthrie shrugged. "I don't think so, Adam. I mean, it isn't like they patched things up."

"They aren't gonna patch things up." Adam said suddenly angry. "He was a jackass,Guthrie! He . . ."

"Hey, I know that! I was here. I saw the look on her face when he was talking to her! I'm not on his side!"

"No, no." Adam ran a hand over his face. "I'm sorry, Guth. I just . . .thanks for everything you did."

"If he comes around again . . ." Guthrie said aggressively. "I mean it, Adam. If you had seen her face."

"Yeah." Adam agreed. He glanced over at the clock. "You should get some sleep, Guthrie. It's late. I can cover morning chores, too."

"No, man. You gotta be beat. I got it." Guthrie said rising. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Night, Guthrie. Thanks for everything you did."

Guthrie headed out of the room and toward the stairs but paused to look back at Adam. "I don't understand it. Why would he be mean to her? He's her dad, right?"

"He isn't like Daddy, Guthrie. He's a drunk, and he . . ." Adam paused before continuing, "Don't worry. I'm home now."

"Okay."

Adam watched his brother disappear upstairs, but remained where he was. He was exhausted but sleep seemed unlikely. Hannah hadn't cried for long, but somehow that made it worse. He knew she was confused and torn, and all of her inner turmoil was caused by one man. If he left, she'd spend weeks struggling with it; whether or not she could've done something to make him stay, or make him change. If he stayed, she'd spend her days in turmoil too, trying to navigate her way on an unfamiliar path.

He felt such a rage. He had often wished for the chance to face him down - to mete out justice. He understood that if he were here to make peace, it would be better for her, but still the rage was overpowering. He couldn't bear that she was hurt; that he had hurt her. He reached out, clicking out the lamp beside him. He sat a moment longer in the dark before going up to where she slept. Tonight he would sit up watching her sleep, making sure that she wasn't disturbed by dark dreams, but tomorrow he would find Jim Moss, and settle things once and for all.


	7. Chapter 7

THERE WAS no warning. He fell back hard, his eyes wide with shock. He tried to right himself before the next blow hit, but was too slow. It was only as the blood began to flow from his lip, that young man paused.

"What the hell?" He began, finally on his feet and steady. He didn't recognize the young man in front of him, but recognized his look of fury.

"Why'd you come? Why are you here?" He shoved him with each word.

"What the . . ." And then he realized it. He studied the man before him, who paused in his attack. He was tall, dark-haired and wearing a white cowboy hat.

"Did you already own the white hat, or did you buy it before you came here?" Jim Moss asked his son-in-law. "It's a little over the top, don't you think?"

"Everything okay, Adam?" They were surrounded by the few people out on Main Street at 9:00 in the morning.

"I won't hurt him." Jim said with a bitter laugh.

"No, you only hit women and children, you bastard."

"Well, nice to meet you too, son." Jim said. "I see my daughter already told you about me."

"No. She hasn't wasted a word on you. And we aren't gonna. You are gonna get the hell out of town and crawl back under whatever rock you came out of."

"Listen, I appreciate your protectiveness, but I don't drink no more and I've come to make amends for my past."

"Really? You gonna travel backwards in time and be there when she cries herself to sleep 'cause her Daddy left her behind? You gonna be there when she graduates? You gonna tell her she's pretty when some jackass breaks her heart? Are you gonna walk her down the aisle to me?"

He shook his head, waving a hand at him.

"I can't undo what's done."

"No." His son-in-law agreed. "You can't protect her when her drunken father took a swing at her either, can you? You were worthless then and you're worthless now." The drew himself up to his impressive height. "But she ain't four anymore, and she ain't defenseless either. You stay away from her or I swear to God I'll break your neck you worthless son of a bitch!" He grabbed Jim by the front of his shirt and Jim winced expecting another blow, but instead he released him storming away as quickly as he'd appeared.

***7***

"So you decided the best way to impressive your father-in-law, was to knock him on his ass, and tell him to get the hell out of town?" Brian asked his older brother.

"Well, it wasn't like a whole lot of thought went into it." Adam leaned against the back wall of the barn.

"But what did he say? What did you find out?" Brian lifted the saddle he'd been undoing, and carried it over to the opposite side of the barn.

"Yeah, I sort of skipped right over that part."

Brian laughed. "So, you walked up to him, hit him and left."

"And told him to stay away." Adam sighed. "Jesus! I really screwed it up. But Brian, if you had seen her. I mean he's a jackass. He broke her heart."

"Yeah, I got that, but why is he here now? He didn't come all this way to break her heart again. I mean nobody is that much of a monster, are they?"

"I hope to God not."

"Well, if he is, she's got us. I mean, it isn't like he's got a real shot at hurting her, Adam. _I'll_ kick his ass if he so much as . . ."

"Brian, we can't really protect her. She wants to have a father. Who wouldn't? If you had a shot at having Dad back in your life, you'd risk anything for it, wouldn't you?"

Brian blinked rapidly at this, and cleared his throat before responding, "Jesus, Adam! Why always gotta carry the weight, huh? Everything is always life and death with you!"

"You think I'm exaggerating? Pay attention, Bri! He left her when she was ten years old! Never called, never wrote, never looked back! This _is_ life and death!"

Brian turned away, rubbing his chin with his hand. "Yeah, you got a point, but maybe you shouldn't have walked up and handed him his jaw, then?"

Adam collapsed, sitting down on a nearby hay bale. "Oh, God! I really screwed it up! I was just so . . .I've been mad at him since the day I met her! You've never heard her talk about him, but her voice and her eyes when she does! It's like listening to Daniel cry."

Brian paled at this, and he stepped closer to Adam, a hand on his shoulder. "I get it, brother."

None of them had managed the death of their parents well, but Daniel, had crumbled. He had been so close to his mother, and felt her loss intensely. He had let out great keening sobs that had shook his older brothers to their core. They were still children themselves, really, and the sight of their devastated younger brother weeping for his parents night after night had left them deeply scarred.

"So," Brian said after a minute, "so now we are gonna have to clean up your mess." He grinned down at Adam, who still looked completely miserable.

"How we gonna do that?"

"Well, you are gonna talk to your wife, and make sure things are all squared away there."

"Yeah." Adam agreed.

"And I am gonna go to town and see if I can't find your father-in-law."

"What are you gonna do?" Adam's eyes grew wide.

"What do you think, Junior?" Brian grinned, enjoying bossing his older brother for once, despite the extreme circumstances. "I'm gonna invite the jackass to dinner."


	8. Chapter 8

ADAM AND BRIAN left the barn and crossed the yard to find Hannah waiting on the porch. Her eyes grew wide with surprise at the sight of her brother-in-law.

"Brian!" She called out. "When did you get home?"

He crossed the yard to her, and met her at the bottom of the porch steps, pulling her into a brief hug.

"Just now."

"It's good to have you home." She said, smiling warmly at him.

"I like that! When I came home you yelled at me." Adam pointed out as Brian laughed.

"You don't have my charm." Brian teased.

"Where are the boys?" She asked glancing around.

"Oh, it was just me." Her face darkened at these words.

"Why?"

"Well, now, don't get all . . ." Brian struggled for words, while Adam snickered.

"So much for charm!" His older brother muttered under his breath.

"You cowboys! I'm not some damsel in distress!" Hannah glared at Brian.

"Ah, now settle down, Hannah! I came home for Adam. Crane and I figured he was bound to do something stupid! You know his track record with losing his temper! And if you were mad at him, there was no one over 18 to bail him out of jail!"

Hannah stood hand on hip, considering this thoughtfully. Finally, her glare relented, and her face relaxed.

"I suppose you have point." Hannah offered.

"Oh, sure forgive him for coming home to your rescue! Where's _his_ twenty-minute lecture?"

"Oh, don't be a baby, Adam! Besides, I apologized." She grinned, blushing as she said this remembering the apology.

An awkward silence hung between the trio, and finally Brian broke the tension with a chuckle.

"Well, I guess, there's some benefits I miss out on." He winked at Hannah who turned completely crimson.

"Wh . . where are the boys?" She asked glancing around and trying to hide her embarrassment.

"Oh, if they can't bring in a herd of pregnant cows by now, they should turn in their saddles." Brian scoffed. "I'm gonna take a shower and go work on that project, Adam, so you might want to set everything up."

"Right. That will be easy." Adam said, watching as Brian walked past Hannah and inside the front door.

"What are you fellas working on?" Hannah asked.

"Well," Adam hesitated. "I, uh," He reached out to take hold of her hand. "Why don't you and I go for a walk?"

***7***

Jim Moss had learned long ago that the trick was to never take too much. It was always tempting in small towns to just completely raid a house. After all they left their doors unlocked - it was almost like an invitation. But he had learned in all his years, that if you just took a little necklace here, some cash there, or a ring or two, people would think they'd misplaced something. It would take them quite awhile to realize they'd been robbed.

He knew he couldn't stick around Murphys long. He hadn't counted on Hannah being here. Last he'd heard, she was in school and when Grace had written him that she'd married, he'd assumed it had been a college boy - not some rancher near their hometown.

When he'd got out, he'd gone to Grace, of course, but apparently she'd had enough of him. She had her own troubles, and her husband wasn't interested in hanging out with "dear old Dad!" So he had headed to Vallecito, in hopes the old house was still empty, but it had finally sold. He knew he couldn't hang around that town - too many people remembered him; remembered what he owed them. So he wandered around and ended up in Murphys over two weeks ago.

He'd spent his first couple days just watching from the distance. He loved little towns like this. Although they were mistrustful of strangers, they lived their lives fairly open - keys left in cars, doors unlocked - following familiar routines that you could count on. He had been snitching stuff here and there, when one afternoon a dark haired girl turned the corner looking so much like Liz that he'd nearly passed out. He'd stepped back into the shadows and watched her. A tall teenage boy was at her side. He knew it had to be her, although it seemed impossible. There was no mistaking that jawline, and familiar determined chin. He couldn't figure out what she was doing not thirty miles from her grandfather's ranch and who was the kid? Grace would've mentioned a nephew, surely? Especially one as old as the kid had appeared to be - Grace would've loved to share any of Hannah's supposed flaws.

He knew he should leave. Staying in the same town as her was just dangerous, and asking for a whole mess of trouble he didn't need. Yet, he couldn't tear himself away. He watched for her, and saw her twice more before he spoke to her; once with a tall, skinny blond, bearded man - her husband he had thought at the time, and with the same teenager. He kept telling himself to go, but it was as if his legs couldn't obey him.

The last time he'd seen her she'd been a ten year old girl - so strong willed and stubborn that she had intimidated him. He'd never even considered taking her along. She would've protested every step of the way, and harassed him about his drink. He actually hadn't intended to take Grace either, but at fifteen she had been convinced he needed someone to look after him, and the thought of her cooking a good meal now and again swayed him enough to let her tag along. It hadn't lasted though. Before she was seventeen, she was gone and he was alone.

The fourth time he'd seen her alone in the street, she'd caught him by surprise. The only reason he had spoken to her was because he thought she'd seen him. He found himself talking to her, and both fearing and loving the sound of her rich, mellow voice. She was fiercely angry at him, he could see that, but that ire and spark reminded him so much of her mother, that he couldn't step away. And now he found himself in the middle of disaster. It was time to go, he reminded himself. _I should leave right now_.

But, he was torn. The last thing he wanted to do was run into her angry husband again. And yet, he wanted to stay too. It wasn't just that Murphys was easy pickings - he'd found other small towns like it before. There was something else. Something that defied logic. He lifted the bottle to his lips and shook his head telling himself, "You are getting soft, old man."

He had just tossed the bottle aside when a tall man approached him. He immediately tensed, expecting trouble.

"You James Moss?" The tall, dark-haired man said abruptly.

"Who's asking?" Jim asked cautiously. It seemed this town was full of tall cowboys who seemed to have it in for him.

"That's a nice shiner you got there."

His hand instinctively went to his cheek. "This town ain't as friendly as them travel brochures let on." They stared at one another in silence until the dark-haired man finally spoke.

"Yeah, uh, my brother gave you that. He's got a bit of a temper."

"Yeah, I picked up on that." He studied the man, trying to determine his purpose for talking to him. "What about you?"

"Oh, most of us got tempers from time to time. The trick is not to trigger it." He grinned at the older man.

"Yeah, that doesn't appear to be my strong suit." He rubbed his cheek thoughtfully.

"Well, make no mistake, someone comes after one of my own, and Adam would be the least of your troubles. But, uh, we been rethinking things." He hesitated.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He squinted up at the tall man.

"Look, we got off on the wrong foot. I'm Brian." He offered his hand. "Brian McFadden. I'm Hannah's brother."

Reluctantly, James Moss accepted the outstretched hand. "In-law. I think I'd know it if Hannah had a brother."

"Well, she's got six brothers now." His tone was intense. "We dropped the in-law a couple years back - probably right about the time she fought besides us against a brush fire to save our ranch, or maybe it was the time she nursed one of our bulls back to health in the middle of a blizzard, or maybe . . ."

"Right. I get it." Jim looked up at Brian, "What do you want?"

"Well, I was hoping you'd come to dinner."

"So you fellas can shoot me? She might not have mentioned it but I'm from around these parts, I know about back-country justice."

"Well, you got the justice part anyway." Brian sighed thinking this was proving to be much more difficult than he'd anticipated. "Look, we want to give you the benefit of the doubt. The past can't be undone, but we _can _control right now."

"You gonna try and save me?" He raised his eyebrows in surprise. He asked it in a mocking tone, but there was something underneath that was earnest.

"Well, I'm not gonna a lie to you, Mr. Moss, it's not you so much I care about, but in our family, parents are in short supply. Hannah deserves more than she got." He watched as James Moss contemplated this. "And I guess I'm willing to give it a shot if you are."

"Well, what's your brother say about this?"

"He's a little uneasy, but Hannah's real important to us."

"I'm picking up on that."

"So you'll come?" Brian asked.

"There's seven of you?"

"Yeah, but the boys are still up in the high country so it just be me, Adam and Guthrie. You already met Guthrie."

"That boy's not over fond of me." Jim considered, rubbing his chin.

"Guthrie and Hannah are two peas in a pod." Brian laughed. "Besides he's fifteen. You know how it is; everything is a chance to protest. Come on, one dinner. She's a great cook."

"I guess there's no harm in trying." He told Brian, but later rumbling alongside Hannah's "brother" in the old truck, he had a sick feeling in his gut. Maybe there was a great deal of harm possible. He watched the golden fields go by his window as every inch led him farther from the bottles he had tucked away at the inn and closer to a world he'd spent a lifetime trying to avoid.


	9. Chapter 9

IT WAS the most awkward dinner Brian had ever attended. It was clear that Hannah was on shaky ground. He'd never seen her so nervous. And excluding the first day that he'd met her, he'd never heard her so quiet. She watched everything with wide eyes. He also found it utterly ridiculous that out of everyone there, he appeared to be the calmest. Guthrie bubbled with anger and Adam fluctuated between outright hostility and watchful anxiety. His eyes never left Hannah, and it pained Brian to see how much anguish it caused his typically stoic older brother.

"I know everyone is real tense, right now." James Moss said as they sat around the table. "And just want to say how grateful I am for a chance to sit at the table with you."

"You oughta be." Guthrie glared across the table at the older man.

"Take it easy, Guth." Brian said gently, stunned to find himself the keeper of the peace.

"No. He's got a right to his anger. " Jim Moss said, equally calm. "He's come by it honest."

"I already spoke to you on this." Hannah's voice was shaky and angry. "You leave him alone. "

Brian was stunned by the coldness of her voice. He'd never known her to be anything but warm-hearted. Sure, she got angry from time to time - who could blame her! Adam generally reacted first and thought later - not to mention being the lone woman surrounded by men. Sometimes raising her voice was the only way to be heard. But this, _this_ was a Hannah he was unfamiliar with - there was an unknown darkness, a fragility, and he didn't like it. He didn't like how small she seemed; how frightened. Suddenly, his attempts to bring her peace seemed childish and foolish. He wished he'd kept his stupid mouth shut.

"That's right." James Moss said, meekly. "You did. I apologize."

She relented and turned back to the stove and Brian recognized that he was in way over his head.

"So," Adam said abruptly, his eyes not on the older man, but on his wife. "What brings you to Murphys?"

"I'm not as young as I was and I guess I got thinking about mistakes I made."

The words sounded right and yet, Brian mistrusted them; mistrusted the man saying them. He watched Hannah's face and could tell she mistrusted him too, and yet he saw something else there, too.

Hope.

It flitted across her familiar features like a shadow, and he felt the mournful weight of the responsibility of family; the weight of love.

"So, you just showed up?" He heard the anger in his own voice, and cleared his throat trying to cover it.

"I guess . . ." He looked up at Hannah at the stove. "I guess it is just one more mistake. I don't know, it seemed like it was now or never."

Brian didn't know what to say. No one did apparently. The room was silent except for the sound of Hannah's shoes as she crossed the floor, as she brought a pot roast to the table. Brain was distracted by the roast. It was beautiful, perfectly prepared - Hannah's pot roast was amazing. The meat melted in your mouth and the little baby carrots always reminded him of his mother.

It filled him with a deep sadness. Whatever she said, she had prepared a beautiful, perfect roast; it was like she was holding out her hand; open - waiting.

". . .mostly been in Colorado, but spent a couple years in Florida. It was a mistake though." Jim Moss was saying and Brian realized he'd missed part of the conversation.

"We were in Denver." Her voice was soft as she sat down at the table.

"Yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I heard that."

"Go ahead." She gestured passing a bowl to Guthrie. Guthrie reluctantly obeyed.

"You didn't go see her?" Adam asked in an amazingly calm voice.

"Once."

Hannah dropped the spoon in her hand at this.

"When?" Her eyes were huge as she asked the question and it was easy to imagine her a small girl, standing at a window, forever waiting.

"You must've been twelve, I guess because Gracie was long gone, and I met your mother at a coffee shop where she was working."

"She never told me."

"Well, it wasn't a great reunion. She wasn't real happy to see me, and I left."

Something crossed Hannah's face that Brian couldn't quite read, but it worried him.

"After that it was divorce papers, and it was easier to be drunk." He shrugged his shoulders.

"But you're sober now?" Brian asked.

"Five years. Going on six."

The room grew silent again and Brian looked down at his plate, sorry that such a beautiful roast would remain uneaten.

"So, you came home." She said softly.

"Well, I've got no home; destroyed it myself. But I thought I could at least, I don't know. . ." He shrugged. "I can't undo what's been done. And I can't say sorry for it either. How could I?"

The room grew silent again. Hannah sat perfectly still, her hands flat against the table. Adam's hand rested on hers.

"You want him to leave?" Adam asked her gently. "Maybe this was a bad idea."

"It was." The strength of her voice surprised Brian. "It was a mistake. I want so badly to believe him." She faced Adam, but then turned to face her father. "I want too much to believe you."

"That's always been a bad idea." He agreed.

"We both know that." She nodded her head.

He rose, slowly, "I'll go then."

"You don't . . ." She began, but stopped unable to finish.

Watching her struggle was one of the most brutal experiences of Brian's life and yet he sat silent. He glanced at Guthrie who fought tears, his face a mask of anger.

She rose and said, "You can take some food with you."

She quickly wrapped a plate of food and handed to him as they all watched in silence. He accepted the plate, as she held it out to him.

"I appreciate." His voice had lost something of its confident tone. "I'm sorry if this has caused you more . . ."

"I'm fine." She said quickly. "I'm sorry dinner didn't work out."

He walked to the back door and she followed him. Brian rose, stumbling as he did, realizing that he'd need a lift to town.

"No." James Moss said, catching his eye. "That's alright, I'll walk. I could use the time to think." He turned back to Hannah. "Good night. I'm pleased to see you've done so well. I'm grateful for it and I'm sorry too, that this dinner caused you . . .well, I guess I'm sorry it didn't work out."

"Maybe we can try again sometime."

The words shocked Brian and he watched wide-eyed as James Moss swallowed down tears and answered, "Maybe", in a husky voice before stepping out into the chilly night.

He stood where he was a half-step to her left. He glanced behind him and met his older brother's steely eyes, his knuckles white as he gripped the table.

"Bri?" Her voice was still soft, her face away from him.

"Yeah?"

"Can you . . .can you . . .Guthrie is . . ."

He understood and her request for help propelled him into action. He nodded his head but realized she was still turned away. He moved to her then, squeezing her arm gently.

"Sure, sweetheart. I got 'em." He kissed her cheek, and released her. "Come on, Guth." He held out an arm to him. Guthrie stood, his head down and Brian moved to lead him into the front room and away from her, but paused adding softly, "I'm really sorry, little Sis, I just wanted. . ."

"I know." She interrupted, turning to face him. "You don't need to apologize."

He swallowed hard shocked by her strength.

"I'm alright, Guth, okay? Go with Brian. I just need . . . "

"Sure." Guthrie said. "Don't worry 'bout me Mom."

_Ah, hell!_ Brian thought, unable to hold back tears as he led Guthrie away. He looked back at Adam who had remained silent during the entire exchange. He gave the briefest of nods at his older brother and led Guthrie through the front of the house and across the lawn to the barn. The could light the stove in the old office and spend the night out there. A cold night was the least punishment he felt he deserved.

***7***

The plate in his hand felt heavy. She hadn't put it on a paper plate that could be thrown away. It was solid. It was real and would have to be returned.

It was a promise.

But he didn't make promises and he most certainly never kept them. He could see the lights of the big house and wondered if she wept now or cursed. He looked down again at the plate; it felt like a burden. He wanted to throw it at the ground and smash it to bits. The lanky teen who had sat weeping at the table could find the pieces later and tell his brothers what a lousy, scum bag piece if shit he really was. That would be the end of it. It would be over and he would be free.

He imagined it splintering into a thousand pieces - everyone of them a dagger. And yet, he was the one who felt pierced.

He studied the simple white and blue plate in his hand and held it close against his body; protectively.

She had cooked for him.

He thought of the jewelry in his stash; her jewelry. He knew that it was at odds with the plate in his hands. He hadn't noticed that it had begun to rain again until the water began to pool on the plate. He turned his face up to the sky wishing it could wash everything away. Finding himself alone in the small room he'd rented from a farmer on the edge of town, he turned immediately to the bottles he'd tucked away, but only after he'd reverently set the plate down, careful to protect it from harm.

***7***

The only sound in the kitchen was clunky ticking of the clock. She found his face unreadable and unfamiliar.

"Say something." She said at last, unable to tell if he would explode with fury.

"I'm so . . ." He choked on a sob, but rose and moved toward her. "God! Hannah! I'm so sorry."

He moved to embrace her but she stepped back and away from his reach.

"I'm not. I know what you were trying to do and maybe you were right. I mean, maybe it helped." She shrugged unsure.

"Darlin', I'd never, ever hurt you. NEVER." He fought another sob. "I'm so . . ."

"I know. Stop apologizing. I'm not angry. I just . . ." She moved closer to him and he put his hands on her arms. "I just feel confused."

"Okay." He said pulling her against his chest. "Tell me."

"He lied. I know he was lying and yet I believe him too."

"How do you know he was lying?"

"He said he went to her and she turned him away - that it was her that told him to go." She looked up at him.

"She talked about it?" He asked her softly, his lips brushing her forehead as he spoke.

"No. But every single day she prayed for him to come back." She turned so she could see his face. "I'm not like her." Her voice faded to a whisper. "She was meek, quiet, would've taken him back even if he hit her again - that never changed - till the day she died."

"So he lied." Adam's voice was brittle.

"But," She paused chewing at the corner of her lip. "I still . . ."

He tightened his arms around her, as she rested her head against his chest again, unable to finish.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I really am." He said kissing her forehead over and over.

"Sometimes it seems like you can't get away from your past." She told him. "You can run and run but it always finds you."

He said nothing at first, wrestling with things she couldn't possibly understand but when he spoke his voice had equal measures of gentleness and anger, "Your past shapes you; good and bad. But it can't control you - not anymore."

"The weight of it is heavy sometimes." She whispered.

"Yeah." He agreed, huskily. "Yeah, it is."

He said nothing, keeping his arms tight around her. There was nothing he could say. He understood that. He also understood that as much as this dinner had brought her pain, she didn't regret it completely. He understood the complicated war inside her that both pushed her away and propelled her to the first man who had ever broken her heart.

"I love you, darlin'." He said softly, thinking there was nothing else he could say to her. His love seemed small next to the mountain of pain facing her.

"Yes." She said burrowing tighter into his embrace. "You do."

He held her in silence for a long time after that. She didn't cry or sob which surprised him. He had already shed more tears than her, over this. But he knew from experience that sometimes you taught yourself never to cry from your deepest hurts; it was too dangerous to let go and really feel it all.

"I should check on Guthrie." She said after a long time, finally moving back to look up into his face. "He's really upset."

"Brian's got him. Let it go for now, honey." He shifted to move her out of the room. "C'mon. You must be exhausted. Let's go to bed."

"The kitchen . . ." She looked behind her.

"Leave it."

He was surprised when she stopped making excuses and allowed herself to be led through the house and up the stairs. She changed silently and then climbed under the covers. He sat down beside her on the bed.

"You aren't going?" She asked him.

"No." He said his eyes suddenly bright with tears. He kicked off his boots and slid in beside her. "No, I'll stay right here."

She curled into his embrace. "Do you think he's gone?" She asked.

"I don't know." He sighed heavily. "I don't think so." He looked down at her, "He's got to bring back that plate."

"He won't. I don't think he will. Why would he come back?"

"He might not, but he should." He kissed her again. "Do you want him too?"

"No." Her answer was quick and firm, but followed almost immediately with a soft and tentative, "Yes." She rose up on her elbows and looked down into his face. "I'm just as pathetic as her, aren't I?"

"No." He answered, reaching out and holding her face in his hands. "You aren't. You strong enough to make him leave that table from shame. That's why he left honey. You can see that can't you? He recognized it. What he'd done, and he left because you asked him to - you aren't weak like she was."

"No." She agreed, settling back down into his arms. "I'm strong and independent. I'm just like him."

The last words stunned him into silence. He supposed on a certain level it was true. From what she told him of her mother, he could see that they were very different. Her mother had been shaped by the people around her - the men around her. She had always simply taken whatever she'd been given. But Hannah had forged her own path. She had an iron determination, and much as he loved her, he understood that her spirit was separate and independent. She shaped the people around her. The house was evidence enough of that. The day after she'd come it was clean and pleasant - already more of the home he remembered so long ago with his parents. And she'd changed his brothers too. Guthrie's simple, "Don't worry about me Mom." was proof of that.

"There might be rough storms ahead." She said at last.

"And I'll be right here." He promised, turning to kiss her and wishing that his love were powerful enough to wash every scar of the past away.


	10. Chapter 10

HE TRIED to stay away and to never think about her, but he found his eyes continuously drifting toward their ranch. He couldn't see it, of course. It was much too far away, but he could see the mountains that overshadowed it. And at night the last thing his eyes rested on was a blue and white plate. The food she'd prepared was long gone, but the plate remained. He would lift it up from time to time, and polish it with a worn towel. He knew he ought to give it back to her, and yet he didn't want to part with it either.

He went about his business. He had gathered a nice collection of watches, rings, cash and other small items. He had just about reached the edge of safety. If he stayed much longer, they would realize things had been taken. If he stayed too much longer, it would be nearly impossible to leave without certain destruction.

But he stayed.

He had seen them in town - all of them. He hid back and watched all of them together. She was laughing and smiling and holding onto her husband's hand. They were an impressive crowd. There were nine of them. The blond skinny one had a girl with him, and the two of them laughed easily together. He wondered if he was married too.

He tried to cut back on the drinking and was successful from time to time, but the night after seeing them all in town, he had drunk himself into oblivion. _Get your shit, together, Moss_. He told himself over and over. He wished he had never come to this stupid one horse town. He wished he'd never turned the corner and seen Liz's laughing smile reflected on Hannah's face. Seeing her made him wonder. What was she like when she was twelve? Sixteen? Twenty? Was her husband her childhood sweetheart? Did they have a big wedding? How did they all manage together? Why was she there with his six brothers? What had happened to the boys' parents? Would he be a grandfather any time soon?

Lifting a bottle to his lips was easier than thinking, and so try as he might to stop, he kept drinking.

It was early on a Saturday, nearly two weeks after their horrible dinner that he went out walking and his feet didn't stop until he found himself on the edge of the Circle Bar Seven. He stood under the sign, as the sun rose. He didn't know why he'd woken up so early. He was NEVER an early riser, but for some reason today he had. He watched his son-in-law make his way out to the barn in the early morning chilly darkness. He could see the warm glow of the kitchen light. He imagined her in the kitchen, making breakfast. Two more brothers spilled out of the house to the barn, and unfortunately the skinny one saw him. He waited until Brian had gone inside the barn, and then jogged toward him. He thought of running, but his feet couldn't seem to move.

"Hey!" His voice was friendly, cheerful. "You're Hannah's father, aren't you?"

He nodded his head, unable to speak. He wondered if he would have this same conversation with every single one of the brothers.

"I'm Crane. Hannah's brother." He grinned at this. "I imagine you've heard that a few times already."

"Yeah." He nodded. "I don't know why I'm . . . I was just out walking and . . ."

"Well, if you've got nothing better to do, we are pretty busy today. We could use another hand. It's time to wean the calves from their mothers, and we got some inoculations to do. It's kind of gonna be a long day."

"Well, I don't know if . . ."

"Guthrie said you were pretty good help the other day. I mean, if you've got nothing else" The skinny man rubbed his beard thoughtfully. "I don't think Hannah will mind it. She'd be . . ." He stopped, and Jim recognized that he had intended to say "happy to see you." but had stopped understanding that wasn't precisely true.

"Well," He continued, "I don't think she'll be angry to see you."

"Check first." He said quietly. The tall man nodded and jogged away from him and into the barn. He waited anxiously and studied the ground beneath his feet. His heart was pounding and he wanted to turn and run.

"Hello." He looked up to see his son-in-law coming toward him.

"Morning." He said, feeling foolish. "I was just out walking and somehow came here. I don't know why. I'm sorry." He found himself standing before the husband, Brian and Crane. He felt uncomfortable under their steady gazes.

"Well, Crane says you might be willing to lend a hand today." Adam said.

"If it doesn't cause problems." He said trying to make his voice steady.

"Extra workers has never been a problem for me." Brian said with a shrug.

"You've worked cattle before?" Crane asked.

"Hannah's grandfather's ranch, but it was small - nothing like this."

"No problem then." Brian said. "Come with me. I was just loading up the truck. We're gonna bring the claves down from the upper pasture. You still ride?"

"Yeah, but what about . . ."

"Adam'll talk to Hannah." Brian interrupted. "So, I'm gonna get a little work out of ya in case she pulls the plug." Brian winked at Adam who gave a soft hurrumph.

"I'll be back." Adam said shaking his head at his younger brother. James Moss watched him sprint back across the yard before following Brian into the darkness of the barn.

"He wants to kill me." Even he could hear how depressed he sounded.

Brian looked up from where he was gathering tools. "Adam? Nah. He's always like that.

You aren't his _favorite_ person, but I don't think he'll kill you. Not unless you gave him a reason to."

"Maybe I already did." James said softly.

***7***

It was hard, physical work. They had to separate the calves from their mothers, and herd them down to the lower pasture. The worked together without even really having to speak; everyone seemed to know what to do. He was surprised by it, and he tried to follow their lead. He stuck close to Brian and Crane - neither of whom were overly warm to him, but compared to the icy glares of their younger brothers, their calm demeanor was like a warm embrace. He worked hard - harder than he'd ever worked trying to at least impress them in this.

She wasn't with them. Adam had told him that she would meet them all later when they got to the lower pasture.

"She doesn't ride out with us unless Daniel or Evan are on the road. If we got enough folks, she can stay behind and put together a lunch - which believe me you are gonna want by the time the sun climbs high in that sky."

His son-in-law was an impressive sight to behold. For whatever reason, he was clearly in charge. He rode with his back ramrod straight in the saddle, his hat low over his eyes. He could communicate to his brothers with just a short whistle or flick of the hand. It was like watching some old goddamn western. It wasn't as if he was a stranger to the life on a ranch, but he'd never wholeheartedly pursued it. He had hated it - hated every single second. Adam McFadden on the other hand, was an artist who had spent years perfecting his craft.

As the sun grew higher, and they grew closer to the ranch, his hands began to shake. It wasn't just that he feared seeing her again. His body craved the bottle. He wished he thought to bring one with him, but when he'd set out in the predawn darkness, he had no intention of spending the day away from any source of alcohol. It felt as if the very blood in his veins cried out for more. There was no way he could slip away now, and later she would be with them. He couldn't run out on her again. He tried to remain focused on the job before him, but he was distracted.

"Drink some water." He looked up surprised to see that Crane had ridden up beside him. He held out a canteen, which he accepted.

"It's funny how fast you can get tired, hungry and thirsty out here." Crane continued. "You gotta be careful. You don't want to overdo it."

"I guess my cowboying days were a long time ago." He offered as he drank the water, but it tasted hollow and flat.

"Nah. Easiest thing to remember. 'Sides, we are nearly there. You can take any easy job when we get to the pasture." Crane sat back in his saddle, and Jim took a minute to study him. He was lean - almost painfully thin and sported a beard.

"You don't look like a cowboy." Jim remarked. "You look more like a teacher."

Crane laughed at this. "I'm glad Dan'l didn't hear you say that!"

"Did your brother start this ranch?" He asked, feeling oddly comfortable. These brothers weren't at all what he had expected, but then neither was Hannah.

"No. Our granddad did. Our folks took over and now it is ours." He answered tersely but Jim could tell there was more to the story. However, he wasn't brave enough to ask more.

"Better?" Crane asked him.

"Yeah." Jim said, surprised that he did in fact feel slightly better. Although his body still called out for alcohol, it had abated some, and he could ignore it.

"Good." Crane's smile was genuine, and Jim recognized that he ought to turn and ride off right then, right now, but he didn't. He continued to follow them down into the lower pasture.

***7***

The truck was waiting for them as they led the cattle down to her. She leaned against the truck, waiting. Seeing her, Adam who was in the lead, lifted his hat waving it to her. She ran out to meet him, and he hopped off his horse to kiss her. He watched fascinated. It was barely noon, and they acted as though they'd been apart for days. He tried to remember a time when he'd felt that way about Liz; he tried to remember a time when he'd felt that way about anyone.

He trailed in last, and was slow getting off his horse. He felt out of place. She walked up to him, taking hold of the reins of his horse.

"Hi." She said. Her voice was neither friendly or unfriendly.

"Hi." He couldn't think of much else to say so he stood looking at her stupidly.

"You must be hungry." She continued. "There's chili and cornbread." She pointed to bed of the truck where all her family was gathered already passing around bowls of steaming chilli.

"Thank you." He nodded his head, and moved toward them. It was like facing a firing squad, but there was no where else to go. Was he going to run away from them like a frightened child? And he was much too old to literally run away. Instead, he tried to look less terrified than he felt.

"Here you go." It was Adam who handed him the bowl.

"Thank you."

"You did alright out there."

"For an old guy." Evan added bitterly.

"Knock it off." Brian said.

"Well, it's not like it ain't true." Jim offered trying to somehow cause the young man to stop glaring at him.

He settled on a boulder a few feet from where the brothers were gathered, and ate. The brothers laughed and teased each other, and ate an enormous amount of chilli until Adam said, "Alright, fellas, time to work."

None of them groaned. They gathered up their plates and packed everything quickly back into the truck, and dispersed. Jim stood where he was unsure what to do. Adam turned to him.

"You can help Hannah with the inoculations, if you want. One of the boys usually helps her, but Guthrie and Ford have midterms, so if you helped out a little more, they could go home and study a bit."

"Sure."

"Great, Hannah's a pro. She's faster than me. You just need to hold the calf down for her. You want me to show you the best way?"

"I'd appreciate it. It's been a few years." He tried not to sound as nervous as he felt.

Watching Adam, grab a calf and pin it down with his knee was like watching a master craftsman at work. He did it quickly and easily, and Hannah knelt beside him with lightning speed. The calf was back up on his feet before he ever knew what happened.

"See?" Adam asked.

"Yeah," He said in a scoffing tone. He was surprised by the rich sound of Hannah's laughter.

"Maybe you could help for a couple." Hannah said, gently smacking her husband on the arm. "One lesson might not be enough." She turned to face him. "You'll have to excuse him. He doesn't understand that it isn't so easy for everyone else."

"Oh, knock it off." Adam said to her.

"You should see him with a rope! Evan's on the rodeo circuit and _he_ can't rope near as fast as Adam." She bragged.

"Are we gonna work or stand around flapping our gums?" Brian asked, walking up to them. He held Adam's work gloves in his hands and slapped them against his brother's arm. "Let's go, _Dad_. I got a date tonight!"

"You got a date every night." Adam teased putting his gloves on. "You got it, Jim? Doesn't matter how you do it - just pin 'em down." He said as he walked away. "Brian and me will feed 'em down the alley to you."

"Got it." He said.

He couldn't believe how easy Adam had made it look. He was slow and awkward, but after an hour, they fell into a steady rhythm. They didn't talk much. He couldn't have if he tried. It took all his effort and concentration to pin the calves. And he was distracted. She was a good and steady worker. She was cheerful, even as she worked with him, which had to be somewhat difficult for her.

The worst moment came when they were nearly finished. Maybe he'd gotten too tired. Maybe his need for alcohol had become too strong. He had the calf pinned with his knee, more or less, when she bent low to give the injection, but the calf had bucked, and he hadn't been paying attention, so the calf worked himself free. She went flying backwards, narrowly escaping a hoof, and landing flat on her back in the mud.

They were around her in seconds - all of them. A chorus of voices asking her if she was alright, rang out and he felt for sure they would kill him now.

"You okay, darlin'?" Adam asked leaning over her.

"It's alright." She said sitting up. "Just lost my balance."

"Did you get kicked?" Brian asked her.

"Nope." She grinned at them. "But I won't be winning any beauty contests today."

"Must've hit your head on something, though." Adam said, lifting a hand to her face. "You got a bruise."

"I do?" She asked. "Doesn't hurt."

"Alright, then." Adam grinned at her and kissed her cheek. "You feel like standing?"

"Yep." He helped her rise, one arm around her protectively.

"I'm fine fellas. Get back to work. I wanna get in before the sun does." She smiled at them and they nodded until he was standing alone with her and Adam.

"I'm really sorry." He said, his face down ashamed. "I wasn't paying good attention."

"You're tired." Hannah said. "It happens."

"I should've held him tighter. You could've been kicked!"

"I wasn't. Come on, theres only six left."

Adam said nothing, and he couldn't avoid his son-in-law's uneasy stare. "I'll be more careful, Adam. I promise it." He told him.

Adam nodded, and with another kiss on Hannah's cheek, he went back to work.

***7***

It was nearly dusk when they finished. They returned to barn together, and he helped put things away, and brush out the horses. They left the barn a noisy, rowdy group and he followed them all the way into the yard, but stopped short of the steps. Everyone had gone inside, except for Brian who turned to look back at him, his hand on the screen door.

"You gotta be hungry. Come on." He said turning back to him.

"I don't know. I've sort of overstepped my bounds enough." He hesitated.

"You earned a good meal, Jim. And after I can drive you back. That's one long walk."

The table was nothing like the last time he'd been there. It was noisy and crowded. The younger boys had cooked up a pot of spaghetti, and they ladled out heaping bowls of it. There didn't seem to be any pause in the conversations when the food was handed out. And yet, somehow the food disappeared too. He didn't remember actually seeing them eat any of it. He didn't participate. He couldn't if he had wanted too. It felt like there were fifty conversations going on at the same time. He couldn't keep up.

Later, riding again in the truck next to Brian, he couldn't believe any of it; couldn't believe that he wandered out there; couldn't believe that he'd spent four hours working at her side.

"Thanks for all the help today." Brian said to him.

"You're welcome. Thanks for letting me." He couldn't think of anything else to say. There was too much that he felt unable to express.

"Listen, uh, you should know something." Brian said suddenly serious, and Jim felt his heart sink. "Crane did a little research, and well . . . some of the things you said don't line up just right."

Jim said nothing, but turned to stare out the window, ready for the inevitable.

"He came to me, and well, we know about . . . well, we know you just got out of prison."

Jim puzzled over this. If they knew, why had they let him work today? Crane found out? Crane was the one who suggested he spend the day working the ranch.

"I don't understand."

"Hannah doesn't know. We didn't tell her. We think you should tell her the truth - not us. I mean we will, if you don't, but it would be better if it came straight from you." Brian glanced over at him. "Listen, I'm no saint, but it would hurt her, to learn it somewhere else. So maybe next time you come around, you could level with her."

"Does Adam know?"

Brian nodded his head. "Of course."

"I don't understand anything about this day." He leaned his head against the cold window glass. "You let me work with her all day long."

"But you didn't tell her." Brian said. "I was kind of hoping you would, but I can understand it. Why bring up bad news, right?"

"I'm not real good at telling the truth." He confessed.

"Yeah, I picked up on that." Brian said laughing. "But I'm not real good at putting up with people lying to my little sister, so we are at odds with each other."

"I should just leave." He said softly, almost to himself. "Nothing good is going to come of any of this."

"Good already has come of it." Brian said, as he pulled the truck to a stop on Main Street. "She had a really good day today. Even you could see that, and you did too."

"But that's only because she doesn't know anything."

Brian laughed again. "I keep forgetting you don't know her well. Listen, Mr. Moss, Hannah's smart - smarter than just about anyone I know! She probably has a pretty good idea of where you been and what you been doing! It isn't about her need for information - it's about you telling the truth - telling it to her."

He found himself at a loss for words. He needed to get out of this town. He needed to leave tonight; now. He rubbed his head which suddenly seemed to be throbbing. He pushed the door to the truck open planning to leave without another word, to loose himself to the darkness of the night, to climb back inside the bottles that waited for him; to forget about everything. But Brian was still talking even as he moved to go. He reached out grabbing hold of his arm, keeping him inside the truck.

"Listen, you can do this. You can." Brian's voice was intense, and he didn't want to hear anything more, but Brian continued. "You can do it, Mr. Moss. It can't be any harder than lasting this whole day without a single drop of alcohol."

He froze at this, even though Brian had released his arm. He kept his eyes down, feeling that he had suddenly become transparent. It was as if these damn McFaddens could see right down to his very core.

"We maybe out in the sticks, but we aren't dumb, and neither is she." Brian added.

He couldn't think of a single word to say. He thought he'd been so clever; thought he'd covered every single one of his tracks. Yet, they seemed to know everything. He opened the door and stepped down from the truck.

"Thanks for everything." He said, hesitating with his hand on the handle of the door.

"You are welcome." Brian's voice was cheerful and light again, and he half wondered if he'd dreamed the whole thing. "Come by any time. You know where we are."

He somehow managed to stagger back to his small room. He was completely exhausted. The strain of being under their accusing watchful eyes all day left him worn out. Brian's words left him weak and dizzy. He fell back on the bed, his eyes on the ceiling above him.

"You are on dangerous ground, Jimmy boy." He told himself. "You gotta pack up and get the hell out of dodge." He reached out a hand to grab the bottle of whisky beside him, but he couldn't seem to wrap his fingers around the neck of the bottle. His eyes drifted over to the blue plate - still there - still a promise. He closed his eyes trying to imagine a way out of everything, but he could see he was trapped. He lifted his hand, rubbing his forehead.

"Goddamn, those McFaddens!" He said into the empty, dark night. And then completely spent, he drifted to sleep - the bottle of whisky still closed beside him.


	11. Chapter 11

ADAM FOUND both Guthrie and Ford at the kitchen table, their books spread out between them. Crane and Daniel stood at the sink washing dishes.

"How's it going?" He asked.

"Eh!" Ford groaned. "I hate midterms!"

"She's on the porch." Guthrie said without looking up.

Adam laughed at this. "I figured."

"You mean he wasn't genuinely concerned about my academic development?" Ford teased. "I'm hurt, big brother, deeply hurt."

"You'll get over it." Adam said, pausing to muss Ford's hair before stepping out into the cold night air.

She stood near the front steps looking out at the hills beyond. She wore his jean jacket. She didn't turn around as he approached, and he wrapped his arms around her as she settled back against his chest.

"Tired?" He asked.

"Uh, huh. You?"

"Beat."

"Brian back yet?"

"He has a date." Adam told her.

"We'll see him tomorrow then." She laughed at this.

The sound of her laughter always seem to fill him with contentment. She was happy and his world was at peace.

"Not a bad day." He said turning her in his arms so she faced him.

"No." She agreed and they began to sway, dancing together on the broad porch.

"Ford!" He called out. "Hey, come on! Ford!"

"I'm trying to study!" His brother answered from inside.

"Take a break." Adam demanded.

Soon the sound of Ford's fiddle surrounded them and she laughed again.

"You are such a tyrannt!" She told him as they danced to his brother's music. "Some people turn on a radio."

"Radio? Nah! My girl gets a live band - every time." The sound of Daniel's guitar joined Ford's fiddle.

She said nothing, resting her head against his shoulder as they danced.

"You alright?" He asked her, worry etched across his face.

"It doesn't change the past but it was a good day." She answered softly. "It was nice."

"Alright then." He spun her around, enjoying the sound of her laughter as he dipped her low, pausing just long enough to kiss her before bringing her up and continuing the dance.

"But Adam," Her voice was hesitant. "Don't get your hopes up. Sooner or later he'll. . ."

He stopped dancing and looked directly into her eyes which were clouded with a look of sadness. "Don't worry about _me_, girl." He reached out with gentle fingers lifting her chin.

"You can't fool me Adam Jackson, you think this is gonna have a happily ever after."

The intensity of her gaze shattered him. He could see it - could see the way she guarded this piece of herself. She was too deeply wounded not to protect herself. It filled him with a sudden, deep sorrow. She was beautiful, sweet and loving, and this man had marred that; left a permanent mark on her, leaving her an inheritance of brokenness. He ran his fingers over the soft skin of her face before pausing to kiss her first on her forehead, then on each side of her face, before pausing to rest his forehead against hers.

"We're the happily ever after, sweetheart. Whatever happens with him doesn't change that."

She said nothing to this; her only reaction to burrow tighter into his embrace.

"Can I go back to my homework now?" Ford called from inside, the music pausing. "You aren't dancing. You don't need music to kiss."

"Ah, shaddap!" Adam said dramatically attempting to tease a smile out of his wife. She laughed gently at this, and pushed herself away from him, meeting his dark eyes, her own bright with tears that she stubbornly refused to shed.

"Go finish studying." She called out, stretching up on her toes to kiss Adam. The music continued as they kissed under a blanket of bright and hopeful stars.

***7***

He came again four days later. He strode up in the early morning light, his hands in his pockets. He ought to have brought the plate with him, but he hadn't. He figured he'd bring it next time. Next time. The words reverberated in his chest.

It was a Wednesday, so the younger boys were at school. It was a slow rainy morning, and he found Brian in the barn, repairing some tools.

"Jim!" He said, smiling genuinely at the sight of the older man. He held out an outstretched hand. "Good to see you."

He shook the offered hand, surprised with Brian's smile and welcoming attitude.

"Need a hand?" He asked, trying to put off the inevitable.

"Nope. Hannah probably does. She's battling Mt. Laundry." He nodded his head toward the house. "Adam and Crane went into town."

"Maybe I should wait and check in with Adam." He hesitated.

"You're just being chicken." Brian teased. "And Hannah would hand you your backside if she heard you suggest you had to get permission from her husband to talk to her. Go on."

He crossed the yard, and went up the broad steps of the porch, his heart hammering in his chest, he lifted his hand to knock, but she was already swinging open the door.

"I thought I saw you out there." She smiled at him. "Come in." She led him inside. "You look like you could use a cup of coffee. They passed the living room which was filled with piles of folded laundry.

"Excuse the mess. I'm battling the laundry monster today." She said smiling as she reached out and poured a cup of coffee. She set it down on the table, turning back to pour another cup. She set it at the seat beside him, and went to the refrigerator. "I don't know. Do you take cream?" She poured a little cream into her cup.

"Uh, no thank you." He said sitting down in the chair. "I drink it black."

"Mom did too." She said quietly, putting the cream back in the fridge before sitting down beside him. She wrapped her fingers around the cup, and to calm his nerves he took a sip. The hot coffee burned his throat, but he swallowed it down.

"It's kind of a slow day today. Too much rain for any real work." She said.

"That's what Brian said." He nodded his head toward the barn.

"Must've been a cold walk here. You could call if you wanted a ride." She told him. "Do you have the number?"

"Yeah," He cleared his throat. "Listen, Hannah, I, uh, there's something I should tell you."

She didn't look up at him, but kept her eyes on her coffee cup.

"You are leaving?" The question was soft - he barely heard it. It surprised him. It was clear she was worried about it. He tried to wrap his brain around it, but it was too much. _She was afraid he was going to leave her? She didn't want him to go?_

"No, uh, but I wasn't a hundred percent honest about some things." She looked up at him.

"You never met Mom in Colorado." Her tone and statement surprised him. _How did she know that?_ She met his eyes. "Mom never would have sent you away. Never. The only thing she ever, ever wanted was you to come back."

"Oh." He was surprised by this. He had always figured that over time, Liz's devotion would have turned to hate. "No." He admitted. "I never did. I knew you were in Denver, but I was too scared."

"Okay." She said.

"But that's not all. I was," He sighed wishing that he hadn't decided to do this - wishing Brian had never said anything to him. For the last four days it was all he could think about. He hadn't even really been able to sleep. "Listen, I was in prison." He finally blurted it out. "I just got out before I came here."

She didn't seem surprised, and only said, "What for?"

"I did five years for a robbery. I had some other minor warrants so when I got caught the judge, well, it all caught up to me I guess." He looked down unable to meet her eyes; feeling ashamed. "It wasn't for anything violent." He added quickly. "I wouldn't . . ." He stopped himself. He was going to say he would never hurt anyone, but then remembered suddenly leveling her mother with a punch.

"No, you aren't violent when you are sober."

He looked up at her, surprised by this. He studied her face closely trying to read behind her dark, and angry eyes.

"I'm really sorry, Hannah. I'm sorry for lying, and . . ." He felt at a loss for words. How on earth could you apologize for destroying a child's faith and trust? "I never should've . . ." He pushed himself back from the table. "I treated you badly. I treated your mother badly." He confessed.

"Yeah." She agreed. "You did." The words were surprisingly calm and without any anger.

"I. . ." He was unsure. He rose quickly, knocking over the cup of coffee. She sprang up, grabbing a towel, and mopping up the mess.

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, that's okay. I live with six men. There's always a mess." She smiled up at him. "You can make it up to me by helping with that laundry, Dad."

Dad.

The last word was delivered self-consciously, and sent him reeling. Dad. She hadn't called him that in years and hadn't uttered it once since his surprise arrival. Not once. The whole time he'd been here she hadn't called him anything at all. Her brothers called him Mr. Moss or sometimes, Jim. But not Dad. His eyes grew watery and he feared he would burst into tears right in front of her. Instead, he cleared his throat several times, before finally responding.

"Sure. I would love to help."

***7***

"He came back?" Adam asked.

"Yep." Brian said. The stood together in the dark barn. A heavy rain falling all around them.

"You think he's telling her?" Crane asked.

"Well, he looked like a man marching to the gallows." Brian offered.

"How long has he been here?" Adam asked, concerned etched across his face.

"Couple hours. I didn't want to go in and bug them, but I gotta confess, I'm pretty worried."

"He was sober?" Adam asked.

"Seemed to be." Brian answered. "I would never have sent him into her drunk, Adam."

"I know." Adam said. "But it's hard to tell. I got a feeling he leans on vodka."

"Yeah, no smell. The alcoholic's drink of choice." Crane added, raising his eyebrows. "Maybe he's decided to quit?"

"Deciding to quit and doing it are two different things." Brian said.

"That's for damn sure." Adam agreed. "Okay, well, thanks Brian." He turned, and handed the box he'd been holding in his hands to Crane. "I appreciate you keeping an eye on her."

"No problem. We'll hold up out here."

"Thanks."

He left them in the cold, dark barn, and took the front steps two at a time, pushing open the door.

"Hey, darlin'! I'm back!" He said as he stepped in the door. He was met with sound of her laughter.

"So, you flipped the table over? With everything on it?" Jim Moss was saying.

"I'm afraid so." She said laughing still, but looking up said, "Adam!"

"Hi!" He said. The two of them were folding towels. She set the one she'd been working on aside and came to him, kissing his cheek and holding onto his arm.

"Hello." His father-in-law said rising, and holding out a hand to him. "I thought I could lend a hand today, but Brian sent me in here. I guess after last time, you fellas decided ranch work might not be a fit for me." He chuckled at this.

He felt Hannah's hand tight on his arm, and glanced at her before finally responding. "Oh, nothing of the sort. Not too much going on today. And laundry is something we save only for the bravest hearts." He kissed Hannah's cheek and she released his arm with a squeeze, going back to her work.

"We nearly have it finished." She said cheerfully. "Its a miracle. Done before lunch."

"You staying to eat with us?" Adam asked.

"If that's alright."

He glanced at Hannah who nodded her head. "Sure." Adam offered.

"Listen, I uh, was talking with Hannah." Jim Moss began nervously. "You should know, I uh, wasn't exactly truthful about everything."

"Yeah, I'm aware." Adam's voice was flat, cold and unwelcoming. 

"But I thought I should come clean and well, I just spent five years in prison. That's where I was before." He hung his head down.

"Robbery, failure to appear - three counts I think, and larceny." Adam sat down on the arm of the couch beside him. "You also did two years back in 70s - also larceny."

"Yeah." He admitted. "But how . . ."

"Crane's got some friends in Davis. He called and asked them to check you out." He glanced over at Hannah who stood with a bundle of towels in her arms watching them. "She's pretty important and you didn't think, I'd let you just waltz in here and . . ."

"No, I guess you wouldn't."

Adam sighed and rose slowly, crossing to him, "I know a lot of things, Jim. But the most important thing I know is that she," He paused to point a finger at Hannah, "is the best person I know, and I'm not kidding when I tell you this - you lie to her and shatter her heart and I will hunt you down and kill you."

Adam's eyes conveyed just how serious he was.

"Yeah, I got that. Loud and clear." He said. "And when you're through with me the rest of them would come after me."

"That's right." Adam nodded his head.

"I guess I better mind my p's and q's then."

"Damn straight." He reached out and clapped the older man on his shoulder, squeezing a little harder than necessary, enjoying it when he winced. "Better help her with those towels." He said winking at Hannah.

"Yes, sir." He nodded his head and followed Hannah up the stairs a stack of towels in his arms.

***7***

Guthrie stumbled into the kitchen near two in the morning, sure he'd heard a noise. He rubbed his eyes trying to wake himself, and smiled seeing her sitting at the table, her fingers curled around a mug.

"Trouble sleeping?" He asked, sitting across from her.

"Your brother snores."

"All my brothers snore." Guthrie grinned, and rising went to the fridge and poured himself a glass of milk before settling back at the table. "It's bugging me, Hannah. I just can't read you. I can't tell anymore if you are really alright, or just pretending." He continued. "First, I wanted to kick Brian's ass for bringing him here for dinner, but you seemed happy today. Is it good he's here?"

"I don't know." She answered truthfully. "You have to be careful around him, Guth. Don't trust what he says even if it seems really, really sincere."

"Why?"

"Sooner or later it all falls apart." She shrugged. "At least that's how I remember it."

"Well, I'm not opposed to extra help around here." Guthrie said thoughtfully. "But not if it causes you pain? Does it? I can't read you."

"Sure you can." She laughed. "You read me better than Adam, sometimes."

"Not on this. It's like you go blank. I don't like it. I want whatever you want, Hannah, but inside I wish he'd just leave. I don't want you hurt."

"You don't need to worry about that." She waved a hand at him. "What about the dance?"

"Don't change the subject. I mean it. I don't care what anyone else says. You tell me to make him leave and I will. I'll do it." His hazel eyes burned with intensity.

Sighing softly, she said gently, "Oh, Guth. You are the sweetest boy, I've ever known. You worry about asking Marley to that dance, and I'll worry about all the rest."

He paused, studying her thoughtfully. It frustrated him that he was unable to really tell if she was alright or not. He'd asked Adam about it just that afternoon. His older brother had said nothing in response, but had pulled him into a fierce bear hug, kissing the top of his head as though he were still a small child. He could tell by the set of her chin that it would be useless to push her on this topic, instead he offered her a distraction.

"She likes Brett." He said to her. "Not me."

"No, she doesn't!"

"How do you know?" He asked, laughing at her confidence. "You been reading her diary?"

"I've been reading her eyes! She lights up everytime she sees you! She's got a crush you and wants you to ask her! She'll say yes."

"I don't know." He rubbed his chin.

"I do." She threw up her hands in frustration. "Why do none of you ever listen to me on this! I'm the only woman in this house! Anyone else here an expert on girls? I was fourteen once just like Marley and I'm telling you that girl likes you!"

Guthrie tried to picture Hannah fourteen, but found it impossible. He couldn't picture a small, shy fourteen year old version of Hannah. She always seemed so self-assured and confident.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" She asked.

"I can't imagine you fourteen." He explained.

"Oh, that's nice! You making some crack about me being old?"

"No, Jesus! I swear, you girls make things complicated on purpose." He shrugged his shoulders. "No, I mean I can't see you young and unsure."

"That's a pretty accurate description of me! Throw in shy and insecure and you got it!" She said laughing.

"No way. Not possible. One thing is sure about you, you know who you are."

"I didn't always." She confessed. "We moved so much and I was always new, and was embarrassed that someone would find out I didn't have a dad." She bit at the corner of her lip, a sadness settling back over her.

"He left when you were ten, and came back just now?" Guthrie asked.

"Yeah."

"He didn't call, didn't write - not once?" His eyes grew wide just thinking about it.

"Yeah."

"Adam would never, ever. I mean, I complain sometimes, but one thing is for sure - Adam loves me." His face paled as he realized what he had just implied. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that . . .I'm sorry, Hannah."

"It's okay, Guthrie. I know what you meant. It's alright." She sighed. "Adam isn't like other men, Guthrie. Neither is Brian. What they did - that's extraordinary - not just because they did it, but the way they did it. They were good at it - taking care of you boys - taking care of each other. I know it was rocky at first, but they are extraordinary men. You understand that, don't you? Not everyone just sets everything they want aside for their family. Not everyone is like that."

"McFaddens are." Guthrie said. "It's what we do, and I don't know Hannah, maybe you are wrong. Lots of folks do just that - everyday. You do." He smiled at her.

"Oh, now." She said blushing, and trying to dismiss it. "We aren't talking about me! And I thought we were talking about the dance and Marley."

"We are." Guthrie said thoughtfully. "We were talking about love." He blushed even as he said it, feeling suddenly shy. "And I'm going to bed before you get me reciting poetry." He rose, and stood with his hands on the back of the chair looking down at her.

"Good night, Guth." She said smiling up at him.

"Come on, I'll walk you to the stairs. You should go to bed too." He grinned at her.

"Don't over do it." She said rising and shaking her head at him. "I can only manage so much maturity in one night."

He laughed at this saying, "Oh, well give me five minutes, I can slip back to immaturity pretty quickly." He walked her through the dark front room, pausing at the bottom of the steps as she continued up to where his older brother slept. He waited until she had reached the landing to call out to her in the darkness. "Night Hannah."

"Night Guthrie. Thanks for sitting up with me."

"You're welcome."

He waited until she'd slipped back inside her room, and then crawled back onto the lumpy pull out bed. He lay awake a long time wishing that he had said all the things he'd been thinking. He wished he'd told her that he would do just about anything to travel backwards in time, and find a way to make sure that shy, insecure fourteen year old girl, had every damn thing she ever wanted, and vowed for the ten thousandth time, that whatever James Moss brought their way, he would be just as extraordinary as his older brothers - a man she could lean on when the darkest of days rolled her way.


	12. Chapter 12

GUTHRIE KNEW it was stupid and he blamed the whole thing on Ford, really. If Ford hadn't overslept, he wouldn't have been the one to feed the goats and it certainly wouldn't haven't happened as they were rushing out to the bus. But Ford _had_ overslept and spent the morning rushing around. It was as their feet hit the porch steps that Ford said, "Oh, hell! I forget my chemistry book!" He turned to go back into the house, and then paused, "Shit! The goats!" And Guthrie who hated rushing around and being late sighed and said, irritated, "I'll feed the goats get your book!"

And so, he had stepped into the cool barn, and reaching into the feed bucket had felt the bottle. Bottles. There were five of them. He knew they weren't Brian's because he never bothered to hide his drinking. Both Daniel and Evan drank beer. No one in the family opted for whiskey - at least not that he was aware of - he was pretty sure Crane didn't drink. And no one in the family bothered to sneak their drinking. It was the one thing that even Adam was fairly calm about. Guthrie had his first beer at fourteen just like his older brothers. Neither Adam nor Brian made that big a deal about it, and as a result, neither he, nor his brothers got hyped about drinking. Which is why, he was confident that no one in the family would bury empty bottles in a feed bucket.

That left one person.

He couldn't believe what a colossal prick James Moss was. He wasn't about to let Hannah find the bottles, but he didn't really have much time to do anything about it. So, like an idiot, he stuffed the empty bottles into his backpack and rushed out just in time to run with Ford to catch the bus. Ford thought Guthrie was pissed at him for running so late, and so didn't bother to ask why his little brother rode in silence staring out the window of the bus.

Guthrie figured he could chuck the bottles in the trash at school, but then realized that someone would probably notice five empty whisky bottles in the garbage. He decided he was just going to have to sweat it out, and toss them out in a dumpster after school. In hindsight, he should've gone to Mr. Whedon. He had proved to be a pretty understanding teacher in the past - especially when he'd had a complete breakdown about that stupid heritage report, and he could've helped Guthrie out, but for whatever reason Guthrie didn't think of it until it was too late. He was just turning the corner to slip into his second period history class, when Scott Nebbins raced past him saying, "Sweep!"

The school had started doing sweeps last year. It was pretty stupid. They'd had problems with pot and tardies, so from time to time they did a sweep. Anyone in the halls for any reason got a detention - even if you had a note from a teacher. The police dogs would sweep through the halls after that - going from classroom to classroom looking for drugs. It was supposed to deter people from bringing drugs to school. He thought briefly of running - he could probably make the outer fence and no one would know it, but for some reason his legs wouldn't move. Instead of running, he slumped into his desk, and watched the officer step into the room. He kept his head down, as the dog headed straight for him.

***7***

"They aren't his." Brian tried to keep himself calm. "You know they aren't his."

"They were in his backpack, Brian." Principal Edwards, leaned back in his chair, and folding his hands looked at Brian. "Five bottles. All of them empty. This is pretty serious."

"Guthrie doesn't drink. He's got a 4.0! He doesn't like feeling out of control. And he's smart. There's no way he would bring it to school! That's stupid!"

"Look, I've been through this before. You haven't. Parents find it really hard to accept that their child has made bad choices. Guthrie isn't infallible, Brian."

"What did Guthrie say?" Brian asked

"Nothing. He won't say a single word." Mr. Edwards said with a weary sigh. "I have to suspend him, Brian."

"Let me talk to him. I'll get to the bottom of it. I'm telling you, that you are wrong." Brian recognized he was raising his voice, and stopped himself. "Just let me talk to him."

"Of course. Take him home. See what he'll tell you, and we can all meet again on Thursday." Mr. Edward's said rising.

"Thursday?" Brian asked.

"He's suspended tomorrow. We'll meet first thing on Thursday and go from there."

Brian found Guthrie sitting on a bench between a boy who wore his bangs hanging over half his face. It appeared to be a deep shade of blue, and a girl who kept crying, her face buried in her hands`

"Come on, Guth." Was all he said, and Guthrie immediately picked up his backpack and followed him out to the old International.

They rode in silence for a long time, until Brian pulled the truck off the road near the edge of the woods.

"You aren't gonna drag me out of the truck and leave me to fend for myself are you?" Guthrie asked trying to tease his older brother.

"No, but you have some explaining to do."

"I don't have anything to say." Guthrie said looking down.

"Guthrie!" Brian exploded. "Knock it off! You don't drink!"

"I don't want to talk about it. I'm suspended. I won't do it again.'

"Guthrie!" Brian was shouting now as his frustration skyrocketed.

"Leave it alone, Brian!"

"Leave it alone? Leave it alone?" Brian shook his head, and then turned the engine over, pulling back on the road. "Fine. I'll leave it alone. You can talk to Adam about it!"

"Fine." Guthrie sighed looking out the window of the truck. "But I got nothing to say."

***7***

It was an unpleasant afternoon. The only bright spot was that Hannah and Crane had gone into town. He could hold out from talking to Brian and Adam, but facing her would've been impossible. There was no way he could lie to her, and if she asked point blank about the bottles, he knew he couldn't lie - even though he also knew he had to. Crane was really good at getting him to talk too. Between the two of them, he knew that there was no way on earth he could maintain his silence. He could only hope that Brian and Adam would just let it be. He wasn't looking forward to Ford coming home from school and all the questions that he, and Daniel and Evan would throw his way, either. He considered making up a story - that he was protecting someone - a girl. But he recognized he'd have to name someone - he couldn't just throw a friend to the wolves like that! If only he'd tossed them somewhere! If only he'd thought to go to Mr. Whedon! If only Ford had gotten up on time! There was no way any of his brothers would let this go - they would hound him and hound him until he finally said something. Sometimes, it was a real pain in the ass to be surrounded by older brothers. He thought briefly of packing a bag and heading up to the tops for a few days, but knew how much that would make everyone worry. There was no way he could inflict pain and worry on his older brothers. He sat at the desk and opened up his book. He might as well work on trig.

***7***

"I don't understand it." Brian told Adam. "This isn't like Guthrie. What did he tell you?"

"You heard him, Bri." Adam said moving to sit across from Brian at the kitchen table. "He won't explain it. He's willing to do the punishment, and he won't do it again."

"You are okay with that?" Brian's eyes were wide.

"No!" Adam scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous!"

"What are you gonna do?"

"Me? Nothing! You know he'll never crack when you or I are involved." He raised his eyebrows at his younger brother. "I'm not even gonna bother to try. There are easier ways to get the truth from Guthrie."

"Hannah?" Brian laughed. "Well, that's downright mean!"

"He took a backpack full of empty whisky bottles to school, Brian! I'm not interested in being nice!"

"Who brought whisky bottles to school?" Crane asked, stepping into the kitchen with a bag of groceries. "Tell me it isn't one of ours!"

"No luck, there, brother." Brian said rising, and going outside to help with the bags.

"Oh, I know that sound!" Hannah said coming in with two bags. "Tell me no one got arrested. Our savings account can't manage it."

"No arrests." Adam offered with a smile. "Just detention."

"Just your average day at the Circle Bar Seven then." She said with a grin. "So what did they do this time?"

***7***

They sat around the kitchen table, the groceries tucked away. Silence hung heavy in the room. Adam waited. He knew that both Hannah and Crane would have strong opinions and was surprised that neither of them had said anything.

"I knew this would happen." Hannah said at last.

"What?" Adam's face wrinkled in a frown. "You knew that Guthrie would take empty bottles to school?"

"They aren't his." Crane said when Hannah didn't respond to Adam's question.

"I didn't think they were." Adam said, leaning forward in thought. "They must belong to one of his friends - a girl, maybe." He looked from Crane's face to Hannah's. "Wait. You _know_ who drank them?"

Crane glanced at Hannah. "You aren't thinking hard enough, big brother. It's not too complicated. No one here drinks hard liquor except Brian, and he favors Dad's tequila. None of our boys hide their drinking either. They've never had to."

"Are you saying that Hannah's been drinking?" Brian asked with a laugh. "Life on the ranch gotten to be too much for ya, Sis?"

"No." Crane said.

"Sweetheart." Adam said, suddenly realizing it. "I'm sorry. I didn't even . . ."

"You don't have to apologize to me. You don't drink." She said with a sigh. She turned to look at Brian who still looked confused. "He's protecting me, Brian. Nobody who lives on this ranch drank that whiskey, but I'm sad to say someone related to one of us did."

"Hannah, I didn't even . . .I'm sorry." Brian said suddenly understanding. "But why didn't he just explain that to the principal or to me?"

"Because he doesn't want me to know." She sat back in her chair. "I was such a fool! But you and your damn happy endings." She shook her head at them. "I started to believe that things could be . . . but sooner or later it ends this way. Only this time, it's someone else that's gonna have a broken heart." She rose angrily. "I won't allow it, Adam! I won't! He's not gonna hurt Guthrie the way . . ." She stopped herself, and crossed to the doorway. "I'll go talk to Guthrie."

"No, honey." Adam said rising. "Let me."

"It's my responsibility. I'm the one who brought him here." She said stubbornly.

"No you didn't." Brian said angrily. "I did. It was my stupid idea. I'm so sorry, Hannah. I had no idea."

"Of course you didn't, Brian. Your father never would have . . ." She swallowed hard.

"Let me talk to him with you." Adam insisted. "Sweetheart, please." After a long pause, she nodded her head. The two of them turned to leave the room, Adam reaching for her hand.

"If any of you see him," She said, her voice bitterly cold. "You tell him to stay the hell away from me and mine."

***7***

It was decision time, and he knew it. He kept thinking of that magical day. No one angry to see him. Her voice low and soft, "Dad." She'd said it gently, softly, and it filled his heart with such warmth. The drinking was a problem. He knew it. But maybe if he explained things. That's what he'd do. He'd go to her. Tell her everything. Finally, come truly clean at last. They'd help him, and he could spend his days working alongside them at the ranch. He'd be a grandfather sooner or later. He could see it all - like some damn Hollywood movie where the down and out character gets his shit together at long last.

But even as he thought it; even as he determined in his heart that things would go differently this time, he was reaching for the bottle. All the desire to quit in the world never seemed to make one damn difference. He always promised himself things would be different and yet he always found himself, passed out and alone. He glanced over at the plate. It said on the shelf beside the small locked cash box. The two items were at odds with each other. One held everything he'd taken, and one was everything she'd given. He knew the end result of the jewelry and cash would be prison again. No one would show mercy to him now. He'd broken parole, left the county, and stolen almost immediately upon his release. And he dragged his daughter into it all. He knew how small towns worked. No matter what - if he were hauled away in chains or snuck off in the night - everyone would talk. They would blame her.

He was no good. He'd never been anything but a low life. He knew it. He had learned to live with it. It was what his daddy told him day after day. "You won't amount to nothing but disappointment!" He supposed it was true. He tried not to think of those two days he'd spent with her. It brought him tremendous pain.

Dad.

No, it was too late. There was nothing he could do to change anything. The die had already been cast. He was the down and out character, and he would never be anything else. He reached out his hand ready to smash the damn plate that mocked him. It was all just goddamned wishful thinking and James Moss was never a dreamer.


	13. Chapter 13

SHERIFF TAYLOR Jackson sat at his desk which faced out on to Main Street. He just happened to look up as Adam and Brian McFadden climbed out of their jeep and headed into the mercantile. Sighing he forced himself up, and stepped out of his office.

"You going out?" His secretary Marilyn asked.

"Yup. Tell Paul I'm taking care of the thing." He glanced down at the appointment book on her desk.

"The thing?" She asked raising an eyebrow at him.

"He'll understand." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Something wrong?" She asked concerned.

"No, not unless you count a crime wave running through Murphys." He tapped his fingers on her desk nervously.

"That's funny you mentioned that, my grandmother's ruby brooch is missing. Andrew says I just misplaced it, but I know I put it on my dresser."

"That's a pretty familiar story these days." He shook his head. "File a report Marilyn. I'll sign it when I get back."

"We've got a thief?" She asked, turning to take out the paperwork.

"We do." He said. "Don't make a big deal about it, Marilyn, but ask around and see if anyone else has some 'misplaced' items."

"Alright." She turned and started typing.

"I'll be back later."

He crossed the street, catching up to Adam and Brian as they left the mercantile. Brian was carrying a small box of supplies.

"Hey, Sheriff Jackson!" Adam said cheerfully extending his hand to the older man.

"I told you to call me Taylor." He said smiling at Adam. "You boys on a supply run?"

"Never seem to have enough soap!" Brian said laughing. "How's the wild city of Murphys? Having a tough time keeping the criminals at bay?"

"Just you, Brian." Taylor Jackson said laughing.

"I'm incorrigible." Brian said with a broad hand on his chest.

"I am aware." Sheriff Jackson agreed.

"You should come on out for dinner." Adam said as they walked to the jeep. Brian set the box in the back of the jeep. "Hannah was just asking about you and Anne the other day."

"Oh, well, that would be great." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "But uh, she might change her mind. I need to talk to you fellas about something."

Brian glanced over at Adam, and sighed shaking his head. "Not something." Brian said bitterly. "Someone." He turned to Sheriff Jackson. "Am I right?"

"I'm afraid so." Taylor Jackson turned to Adam. "Is it true? Is he her father?"

"Shit!" Adam said stepping back and slouching against the side of the jeep. "I don't know Taylor, you'd be hard pressed to use that title with him. He's been gone since she was a kid and just showed up. We were hoping that . . ." He rubbed his face with his hand. "She warned me."

"I was afraid of that. I was hoping it was just a rumor." Sheriff Jackson crossed his arms across his chest. "I gotta tell you, Adam, there might be some stormy days headed your way."

Adam threw his hat into the jeep in frustration, cursing again.

"Adam." Brian began but could think of nothing else to say. Adam turned to Sheriff Jackson.

"Okay, I guess we better be ready for it. Tell me everything."

***7***

Daniel McFadden sat on the front steps, a guitar in his hands. He watched Evan and Ford cross the yard, and come to the steps. He rose, and stepped in front of them.

"Don't go in, guys." He said holding up a hand.

"Why not?" Evan said trying to step around his older brother.

"Family meeting going on."

"Last, I checked we were family." Ford said chuckling.

"It's just the big three." Daniel explained.

"Why?" Ford asked.

"I don't know. They are sitting down with Hannah and I got the feeling that Adam didn't want us all there." Daniel explained shrugging his shoulders.

"What is it about?" Evan asked.

"That stupid bastard." Guthrie said coming around the corner. His brothers looked at him surprised.

"You been listening in Guthrie? Come on man! Give her some privacy!" Daniel said angrily.

"No. I'm just not stupid. Why else would they talk without us? I say we go find him right now and run him out of town!" Guthrie stood with fists clenched.

"And what if that's not what she wants?" Evan asked him.

"She doesn't know what she wants." Guthrie said sighing and sitting down on the steps. "Sometimes things are too confusing to make decisions yourself - someone else has to help you out. Do you really think his coming here was a good idea? Do you really think it is good for her?" Guthrie asked them, but his brothers had no response.

***7***

The air in the room felt heavy. They were gathered around the kitchen table again. Hannah sat at the bottom of the table, with Crane sitting to her right. Adam stood leaning against the counter just to her left, and Brian sat at the head of the table. No one said a word. They were waiting; waiting for her response.

"You can add a bracelet and my mother's necklace." She said softly. She turned to look at Adam. "It's a good thing you keep your mother's jewelry locked up. You tell Taylor for me. I don't want to . . ."

"Son of a bitch!" Brian said slamming his fist against the table.

"Brian." Hannah said shaking her head. "I told you." She looked back at Adam. "Didn't I tell you?"

"You did sweetheart, and I should've listened to you. I am sorry darlin'."

"Did he give a count?" Crane asked quietly.

"Just about eleven families reported things missing, but he thinks it could be more. He's smart and just takes one or two things so most people assume it's misplaced." Adam said, his eyes on Hannah who showed no visible reaction to this.

"If it is him." Crane added.

"You think it's someone else?" Brian asked with wide eyes. "You know why he was locked up in the first place! This is just what he did before."

"I was just . . ." Crane began but Hannah cut him off.

"He's trying to protect me." She reached over squeezing his hand. "Which is unnecessary and pointless." She leaned back in her chair. "So what did Taylor say?"

"He wanted to wait until we talked to you. But they've got him under surveillance, and it's just a matter of time. He wanted you to know first. He didn't want you to read it in the paper or find out when you went into town." Adam said gently.

"He's good people. Most folks in this town are." She sighed. "Which is why I wish . . ." But she didn't finish the thought, but shook her head again and said, "Wishing won't pay the rent." She smiled sadly at Adam who reached out and rubbed the side of her face with his work rough hand.

"Hannah!" Brian exploded. "I can't believe the only person in this room who isn't upset is you! I'm ready to . . ."

"Thirteen." Hannah said calmly, interrupting his tirade.

"What?" Brian asked.

Hannah let out a long sigh, and then began very softly. "The week before I turned thirteen I saw a letter that Mom had got in the mail. I recognized the handwriting and I was so sure." She shook her head sadly. "I figured it was at least a card from him at long last, but what I really believed was it was a plane ticket to go see him. I believed he'd gone back and bought my grandfather's ranch and was fixing it up. I used to dream every night to be back here with the wind blowing down from the hills. God! I hated the city! And I thought now that I was old enough, he'd let me come and I could work the ranch with him." She looked up as Adam sat beside her, reaching for her hand. She squeezed his fingers gently. "But, my birthday came and went and she didn't give it to me. So finally, just at bedtime, I asked her where it was - where was my birthday card from my father? When I explained to her what I'd seen, she wouldn't show me the letter. She said it had nothing to do with me, and that I should leave it alone." She smiled at them shyly. "But I'm not really good at leaving things alone, and so I found it and read it."

"What was it?" Adam asked.

"He needed money." She said flatly. "He didn't ask about me, or mention me. God! It was so brutal, you know?" Her voice choked up and Adam scooted his chair closer wrapping a strong arm around his shoulders. "I must have cried all night. It's one thing to fear in your heart that your father . . ." She struggled briefly, but continued, "that he doesn't want you, but to see it in black and white like that." She shook her head, clearing her throat. "The next day, I wasn't sad anymore. I was angry. And I swore I'd never cry over him again." She brushed the one tear that had gathered in the corner of her right eye. "I would like to say thirteen was the last time I cried over him, but Adam could tell you different. But thirteen was the last time he surprised me." She lifted her hands indicating the room around her. "This, I expected. I'm just sorry that you got caught up in it."

Brian and Crane remained silent, and she was surprised to see that Brian's dark eyes were bright with tears.

"Brian . . ."

"No." He exploded. "Don't you dare apologize to me - to us!" He waved his arm toward Crane. "I'm gonna kick his ass, darling, and I will sure as hell get your jewelry back too. That bastard . . "

"That bastard," Crane interrupted calmly. "gave us Hannah."

Brian stopped and stared at Crane who raised an eyebrow at him.

"I'm not sure that makes up for robbing an entire town." Hannah said glancing at Crane.

"Well," Crane said rising. "In my book it makes up for just about anything." He leaned over and kissed Hannah's forehead. "I'll go talk to Sheriff Jackson for you, Adam. I'll take the avenger here with me. If nothing else, so Taylor can remind him the penalty for vigilante justice."

Brian rose, and turned to follow, Crane out the door but doubled back and surprising his brothers dropped to his knee beside Hannah, taking her hands in his. 

"I wouldn't care about jail time, honey. What do you want us to do? I'll do it, if you ask. Whatever it is. I can't stand the thought of him treating you so heartlessly. He never was good enough for you. Never. You understand that right? I wish that you'd had someone like Daddy, he would've . . ." But she kept him from continuing, reaching out and wrapping her arms around him.

"I'm fine, Brian." She said softly. "It worked out alright. I'm here now. I've got family."

He pushed back from her, and met her eyes, nodding in agreement. "That's right, you do. Six brothers who'd do just about anything for you." He kissed her on the forehead, and rose slowly. "Take care of her, Adam. Don't worry about the ranch. We got it covered. You look after our girl." He said and the two of them went out and down the back steps.

Adam remained where he was, standing to her left, stunned by his brothers's reaction. He looked down at Hannah who sat in the chair silent. Finally, he moved to the table and sat in the chair across from her, reaching for her hand.

"Sweetheart?"

"I don't know, Adam. Right now. I don't feel anything at all - except grateful that you walked into Marie's that day." She smiled at him, and he pulled her hand closer, kissing her palm.

"Me too, darlin'. Me too."


	14. Chapter 14

EVEN AS the bottle hit ground, even as he moved forward on unsteady feet, even as a fog fell over his brain, blinding him to guilt, pain and rational thought - even then he understood he had reached his own personal rubicon. He had to choose. The backpack was heavy on his shoulders. The weight of all the things he'd taken seemed nearly too much. He took one more look around the small room that had been his home.

_Home. _

He understood he would never have a home. Never. He'd shattered every opportunity, and it was too late now. It was too far to travel back.

His eyes rested on the plate. He wanted to pick it up and take it with him. He wanted to carry it back to her; to stand on her porch as she swung open the front door exclaiming with a smile, "Dad!" He'd never longed for anything more. He remembered the sounds of the brothers talking around the dinner table, the ease as they worked side-by-side. It was a world unfamiliar to him. A world he never truly believed existed - A family - loving, laughing - together. Every step he took within their boundaries, fourteen eyes watched him; cautious and protective. At least she had them. It wouldn't matter. She didn't need a father _now_. She certainly didn't need a drunk. It was _better_ for him to go. It was better if he disappeared. He was no good. He understood he would never see her again; never hear her low voice say, "Dad". It was over. There was no home for him - not here - not anywhere.

He studied the plate once more and then impulsively lifted it. He would take it with him. He knew it should be the other way around but this; this delicate plate and all it represented would be his only inheritance.

***7***

Adam found her in the laundry room. He leaned against the doorway watching her as she checked his brother's pockets before tossing their smelly jeans into the washing machine. It was nearly eight at night and she'd been up with the dawn so that he and his brothers could have a warm cup of coffee and a hot breakfast. She was unfailingly good.

He tried to imagine her a small, quiet girl - always a stranger and always the new girl in every town with giant eyes filled with longing and hope. He had no idea what to say to her - what could he possibly say to counteract the devastation she'd been given?

"It's creepy, you staring like that." She said, without turning around.

"Hannah, we should. . ." He began.

"Your brothers are gonna need jeans tomorrow, Adam," She switched on the machine and then turned to face him. "Whether or not my . . . Jim Moss is back in jail."

"Sweetheart. . ."

"You gonna stare at me with those sad puppy dog eyes or help fold?" She put a hand on her hip.

"Fold." He said, resignedly, and lifting the basket, carried it to the front room.

It was eerily quiet. There wasn't a brother around which was bizarre. He could tick off on one hand the times they'd been alone together in the big house. They folded in silence. He tried to quell his worries. It wasn't that he doubted her strength. She had managed twenty-three years on her own; had managed to maintain a joyful, beautiful spirit, but he recognized even the toughest colt can be broken.

"Adam." She said softly, and he looked up to meet her eyes. "Stop it."

He shook out another towel, folding it. "What do you want me to do? Seriously?"

"Don't . . . It isn't pity, is it?" She paused in her folding, one of Ford's t shirts in her hands.

"God no! I just . . ." He set aside the towels and crossed to her. "Honey, I don't know what to do. I don't know how to fix it."

Her face softened into a sad smile, and releasing the shirt she reached out with soft fingers, rubbing his tightly clenched jaw.

"Oh, Adam Jackson! Where were you when I was eleven?"

"Here."

"A knight in shining armor in training?"

He grinned sheepishly. "Hardly. An uncultured cowboy; a yahoo!" She laughed at this blushing, and he used the distraction to pull her into a tight embrace. "I'm sorry, baby." He whispered softly.

"Me too." She agreed, resting her head against his shoulder. "I wish I could make him change."

"He should change, darlin' - just for you."

"It doesn't work like that." She said, burying her face in his shoulder. "I tried it."

"He is such an . . ." He stopped himself feeling her tense as his voice rose in anger. "Sorry, Hannah. I just get so angry. You are the sweetest girl."

She said nothing for a long minute, and then pushed herself away just enough so she could see his face. "Tell me about your father."

She'd never made such a straight-forward request before. She had always been unfailingly patient with him. Any stories he'd told her, had eked out slowly; painfully. He'd kept this part of him tucked away and locked up tight.

"He would've adored you - especially the way you knock me back when I'm being a jackass. He would've said you were too pretty for me, and he would've called you sweetheart. I'm sure of that. He was kind, and surprisingly thoughtful for a lifelong cowboy. He always brought Mama flowers and told us to be extra thoughtful because she was outnumbered."

He smiled thinking of his father. He tried to imagine a world in which both Hannah and his parents breathed. He could easily get lost in the perfection of that dream and yet, he could imagine what his father would've done had he known Hannah all those years ago.

"If you had lived here then, he would've gone to your father long before he left and tried to get him to quit, and if he didn't, he would gone to your mother and brought here to this house. My mama would've made her a bowl of stew and put ice on her bruises."

Hannah's eyes grew wide at this. "I would've been hiding in my closet; in the dark."

Her sentence was so soft that the ticking of the grandfather clock nearly hid it. He swallowed hard, before continuing.

"He would've opened the door, and the light would've spilled in. He'd see you there."

"Huddled in the corner; tucked into a tiny ball - trying to be small enough to disappear."

She kept her gaze on him steady as she delivered this tragic description but her face wasn't impassive. It seemed her usual defenses were stripped away and he could easily see in her features the tiny, frightened girl she had once been.

"He would've reached in with his work-strong arms and lifted you out of that dark hiding place. He would've carried you out of that dark, dark house. He wouldn't set you down until he brought you safe to your mother. And he would never have let anyone lay a hand to you as long as he had breath in him."

She was speechless at this; her face pale as tears pooled in her eyes. He could feel it deep inside of him - her shattering and every broken piece pierced him.

"I wish I had a father."

It burst out of her and she shook with sobs so loud that his brothers, who been hiding upstairs, came to the landing afraid something terrible had happened. He waved them away, pulling her in - even tighter. He said nothing as she wept afraid that if he spoke, she would force herself to recover - and for his sake attempt to hide her anguish.

Her sobs finally subsided and he found his voice then.

"I don't know anyone tougher than you, girl." He found himself choking on the words. "And my father is a long time gone, but he is yours for all time, and as to Jim Moss, there's only one thing he ever got right and it was you, sweetheart, but he didn't truly make you. You made yourself."

He held her face in his hands, his thumbs making gentle circles, and leaning forward he brushed a gentle kiss on her lips. She rested her head on his shoulder after giving his cheek a soft kiss.

"What am I going to do?" She asked him.

"This." And he tightened his embrace.

"Adam, he stole from everyone. He stole from us! And everyone will know!"

"I don't give a damn about that! No one in this town will lay the blame on you."

"I can't believe I was so stupid! For all my warnings to Guthrie, I got sucked right in. I'm so embarrassed! I'm so ashamed! I called him _dad!_ I said that word to him! I actually thought it was going to be different this time!" She pushed herself free of his embrace, angry.

"It wasn't foolish! You've no reason for shame! You got an open heart, honey! That's no small thing!"

"How many times I gotta see it all laid out in black and white before I understand it? He doesn't want me. He doesn't love me!" Her eyes filled with tears again and he moved towards her but she stepped away like a frightened colt.

"Goddam crying!" She cursed. "I swore, I'd never. . ." She shook her head, wiping her face. "Why you gotta talk about it? Why can't you leave me alone?" Her anger turned toward him and even though he'd half-expected it - it still stung.

"Because I love you." The words carried some of the hurt that he felt.

"Why should you? He never did."

"That's because he's an asshole, Hannah. And he's been drunk since long before you opened your beautiful eyes." He moved closer again, and this time she didn't step away from him. "He's a goddamn asshole, who can't see just how beautiful you are."

She allowed him to pull her back into his arms. "Why can't I hate him?" She asked.

"Because you are good and sweet and hopeful and perfect."

She laughed at this. "Perfect? Adam, really?"

"Yes." He said without hesitation. She relaxed in his embrace.

"The thing is," She said after a very long silence. "The thing is if I don't forgive him, I'll always be his victim." She looked at him again.

"And smart." He said, as though he were simply continuing his list. "But honey, it doesn't have to happen all today."

"Yes. Yes it does. He'll be arrested by tomorrow. And the sooner I let it go - the sooner I'm free. I don't want to live another second trapped by it - it would be like staying in the closet."

"Okay." He said. "Okay."

"I wanna say it to his face, Adam. I want him to understand he's got no hold on me - that we aren't bound together."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea, sweetheart. I don't think I could manage . . ."

"It doesn't matter anyway. He's already run. I bet you money. He got what he wanted and ran."

The sound of the phone startled both of them and they heard Brian's voice rumble.

"Adam!" He called out.

"Yeah?" Adam turned and walked to the foot of the stairs.

"That was Taylor." Brian said coming halfway down the stairs.

"They arrest him?"

"No. He's about a quarter of a mile away." He turned to face Hannah. "I'm sorry, darlin' but he's on his way here to you."


	15. Chapter 15

OF COURSE it was raining. It suited his mood. It was easier to imagine himself the downtrodden outcast. He shifted the backpack for the hundredth time and looked up into the dark sky as the heavens unleashed upon him. At first he pretended he was headed somewhere else, but he knew no matter what he had to at least take one last look. He almost wished he'd never seen her turn the corner that day - never spoken to her - never seen her surrounded by her family - never sat at that table. It was almost worse understanding what was possible. Try as he might, he just couldn't get his feet to head in any other direction. After a time, he stopped pretending and just headed to her. He promised himself one last look - something to hold on to for the rest of his days. He'd just watch the house from the driveway, see the lights and imagine all the loving chaos inside.

***7***

"I don't know, Adam." Taylor Jackson said into the radio on his car. "He's half-way down your drive and just standing there. We followed him all the way out here. He hasn't seen us. He's just standing there. We can go after him now, if you want. It's been twenty minutes."

Adam glanced over at Hannah who stood at the front window looking out into the rainy darkness beyond.

"Sweetheart? Sheriff Jackson says he's at the end of the drive. What do you want?" He asked.

She turned to look at him, but said nothing, and Adam sighed deeply before speaking into the phone.

"Leave him. I . . . we're going out to him."

To his credit, Sheriff Taylor Jackson took this statement in stride. Adam fully expected some kind of argument, or just a swift statement explaining where and when James Moss got arrested wasn't up to the McFadden family. Instead, the Sheriff spoke into the radio again calmly.

"Alright. But we are watching, Adam. And I'm not gonna be a party to some kind of vigilante justice. I'll cuff you if I have to, you understand that? If you put your hands on him, I'm going to have to step in. You know that, right? I'm just back by the curve of the drive. I'm still watching. I can't allow you to hand out what he deserves, even if I want to."

"I got it. And I really appreciate how generous you are being. I don't . . . I can't promise anything, Taylor. She just never got a chance to . . ." Adam said trying to express a lifetime of hurts in a few simple sentences. "I don't know. We need to let her . . . - well, she deserves a chance to say whatever she needs to say."

The phone remained silent for a long minute until, Sheriff Jackson's voice came crackling across the line, firm but compassionate. "I agree, but don't forget, Adam. He's been in prison, and I'm not sure what he'll do to stay out of it. You be careful. Don't get so caught up in worry over her that you let your guard down. And if you need me to step in, wave your arms up high, and I'll come in like a SWAT team, okay. Paul's out here too. We can handle it. Let us handle it."

"I understand. I really appreciate all you've done for her. Thank you, sir." Adam said before hanging up the phone.

"Well, McFadden's belong to Murphys. Everyone knows that. And she's a McFadden."

Adam hung up the phone and turned to face Hannah, but she was already putting on her raincoat and holding out his parka.

"You understand that this could be a really bad idea, don't you?" He said sliding his arms into the coat.

"When has that ever stopped us?" She asked surprising him with a grin. He reached out and gently held her chin, rubbing his thumb over her soft cheek. He was opening his mouth to say something thoughtful and sweet - he was racking his brain to come up with just the right thing to keep the smile on her face, when he was interrupted by Brian.

"What do you think you are doing?" Brian asked from where he sat beside Crane at the desk.

Sometimes, he forgot his brothers were in the room. It had become necessary to tune them out from time to time so that he could focus in on her. He blinked at them trying to remember all he had said to her with them in the room. Their marriage - their lives was an on-stage affair. Sighing, he turned to look at Brian, who had risen up from where he'd been patiently sitting. In the two hours since, Sheriff Jackson had first called, they'd all been waiting, pacing. He had been so focused on her that he'd forgotten that they lived their lives with an ever-watchful audience.

"Brian, we are just going to go talk to him." He explained.

"You sure that's a good idea?" Crane asked and although his voice was gentle, Adam could feel the accusation behind it, but he didn't get a chance to respond.

"I don't know." Hannah answered truthfully, silencing his brothers. She stepped closer to them. "I appreciate you fellas always looking out for me, but I'm a big girl, and . . .this might be my only chance. After today, he'll be gone again. I don't want to spend the rest of my life regretting that I never faced him."

Neither, Crane nor Brian responded to this other than to nod their heads. Adam reached for her hand, and the two of them turned to go, but were stopped by Brian's voice, unusually hesitant.

"Can we come too?" He asked.

She studied him thoughtfully, her eyes suddenly bright with tears. Clearly, embarrassed, Brian shifted nervously, and then continued in a rush, "I promise I'll keep my temper at bay or at least I'll try. I know it's private, but I just don't want to . . . I need to see you're okay - that he treats you right." He said sheepishly.

Her laughter surprised him. "You might've missed the boat on that, Brian."

"I guess I did." He grinned back at her but then added seriously, "Please?"

She nodded her head and both he and Crane joined Adam at the front door when they heard the unmistakable thunder of the younger brothers coming down the stairs.

"We're coming too." Daniel's voice was firm.

"Danny, I don't think . . ." Adam began.

"We're coming." Daniel repeated, his hand on the bannister, Evan beside him with Ford and Guthrie just a step above them.

"He came here." Guthrie said meeting Hannah's eyes. "He sat at our table and acted . . . We are coming."

"Okay." She said, a soft, loving smile on her face. "Okay, we all go." She turned her head, her eyes meeting his briefly and Adam felt as if his heart would burst. He remembered his mother' oft repeated phrase - _Seven together and strong._ And he wanted somehow to tell her it was eight now.

They stretched out shoulder to shoulder in a line across the long drive. Adam and Hannah were at the center with three brothers flanking them on each side. It was as if they were a battalion marching toward battle. James Moss had been standing in the middle of the road but staggered back as he saw them. To his credit he didn't run, but it was clear he was terrified.

"Holy shit!" He exclaimed, as they approached.

Both Crane and Evan held a lanterns, flanked on either side of the couple, and they made a pool of yellow light. They stopped a few feet from them, and waited in silence, their eyes on Hannah. Holding tightly to Adam's hand she stepped closer to her father.

"If you got weapons on you, I'm a dead man." He said nervously.

"What would we need weapons for?" Brian asked coldly. "Wouldn't need a gun to take care of you."

James Moss laughed nervously at this. "Guess not."

"You leaving?" She asked, her voice surprisingly gentle.

"We both know I'm not the kind of man who stays."

"Truth at last. Leaving for my own good then?" She asked, bitterly.

"I'd like to think so." He shifted, his shoulders back.

"Can't you ever stop?" She asked shaking her head at him. "You _have_ to leave. You took too much and everyone knows. Don't pretend this is some noble act on your part! You aren't doing this for me! You are trying to save your own ass just like always!"

"You don't know anything about me."

"Who's fault is that?" Her eyes grew wide with anger. She let go Adam's hand and moved a step closer to her father. "I'll tell you the only things I do know: you are a thief and a liar a and a drunk." She swallowed hard before continuing. "But a long time ago, I called you 'Daddy' and I'd give just about anything to have that again - not the dark parts when you were drunk I was hiding - praying you wouldn't find me - but the way I believed you could do anything and that you would always keep me safe."

He staggered back at this, a hand to his chest. "You'd have to travel a long ways back to get there."

"Or a few feet forward." She said, her voice softening.

"I don't understand."

"I know you don't. You think you have to lie and hide all your faults. You think covering it up hides it. It doesn't and what's more it doesn't matter. I know more than you can imagine. Like I could never figure out that you were still drinking - as if in a town this small I couldn't figure out the connection between a missing five year chip and the one in your hand."

"I . . . I never . . ."

"Jim!" Adam's words came out more a growl than anything else. "I already warned you."

"It's okay." Hannah said, her hand on his arm. "This isn't about him - not really." She turned back to face him again. "It's about me." She paused and smiled at him. The rained had nearly stopped and now a gentle mist fell over them. In the light of the lantern, it was a silvery mist that seemed to settle over her, shimmering in the moonlight. "It doesn't matter what you do. I'm letting go of it. You are who you are, and our past shaped me - such as I am." She shrugged her shoulders. "Do you understand?"

"No." His voice carried the sound of shock, confusion and anger. "So I'm supposed to be bowed down with guilt because of your damned goodness?"

The collective growl from her protectors should've terrified him but he felt a growing anger. _Letting it go?_ What? Was he some sinner asking for absolution? "I don't owe you nothing. You grew up fine! There's nothing I did!"

Unable to contain his anger,Guthrie spit out, "You bastard! Give her back her necklace!"

"What are you accusing me of? You're all mixed up little boy! She ain't your Mama! And I didn't. . ." He began, but before he could finish his lie, Adam grabbed him, holding him by his shirt.

"I warned you!" He said ferociously. "I told you! Don't you stand on her land and lie to her. I swear to God, I'll rip that lying mouth right off your face."

"Adam!" Her voice was sharp. "Adam, let him go." She pulled at her husband's arm. "Honey, it doesn't matter."

He released the older man reluctantly, and Guthrie repeated, "Give her the necklace."

"And her bracelet." Evan added.

She turned to them, surprised that they knew about what he'd done but then remembered Brian going to them when she'd completely fallen apart earlier. It seemed like such a long time ago. She was suddenly tired.

"Why did you come here?" She asked, genuinely curious. It didn't make sense. He should have fled. He should already be gone. Why _was_ he here?

"I keep thinking of this damn ranch. I can't get it out of my head. You completely surrounded by people who. . ." He shook his head. "I can't help thinking that things would've been different if I'd a had a start like this! Look at all of 'em! You are judging me. You don't how things were!"

"We're supposed to pity you?" Brian asked incredulously.

"You don't know anything about hardship. . ."

Hannah's face darkened, her hands tightened into fists, but even as she moved closer, Adam grabbed her arm.

"No. No, no darlin'. That doesn't matter. I don't give a sh - damn. This isn't about us, sweetheart. You said it yourself, this is about you." He said pulling her back and away from her father.

She paused, drawing in a long, slow breath. Then she turned to face Jim Moss, who took a step back clearly intimidated. "You can't have it both ways. You can't sit at our table by day and rob us at night. You can't confess your sins and hide 'em too. You gotta choose and once you do you have to live with that choice. But whatever choice you make has nothing to with me. It is _your_ choice. Yours."

"You don't understand. I've tried to quit drinking. I can't do it! And no one's gonna ever hire me! I'm an old ex-con! I got to eat!"

"You stop it!" Brian's voice was colder than bitter winter air around them. "You're a man not a child! Don't make up excuses!"

"Why'd you come out here? To yell at me? So they could watch you grind me down to dust?" He asked her.

"Why'd _you _come out here?" She snapped back sharply. "To rob us again? To lie to me?"

He froze, his face white, and then slowly eased the backpack off his shoulder. "I came to. . ." He reached to the backpack and pulled a single item out - a blue and white plate so clean it seemed to glow in the moonlight.

"I came to give you this." He said holding it out to her. "You are right. I have to choose." He looked down at the plate one last time. He said softly. "I have to choose and I'm not . . . You should've never gave this to the likes of me."

She stared at the plate, unable to respond. Adam stepped closer, his arm tight around her and she leaned against him.

"I'll leave the backpack too. Most everything is there," He glanced over at Guthrie. "Including your necklace. I spent the money, but at least folks can have their stuff."

He waited but seeing she wasn't going to respond, he shifted nervously. "Well, I better go. That sheriff's cruiser has been waiting a long time." He nodded his head, and turned to go. "I am sorry, Hannah for all this mess and for the rest of it. They are right. You deserve more."

He walked away from them, but had only gone a few steps when she called out to him, "Wait."

He paused and she walked to him. 'Bye." She said suddenly shy. "I . . . I don't . . ." She struggled unable to express herself clearly.

"'Bye Hannah. You take care of yourself."

"You can . . . You can write if you want." She said softly, but then gaining confidence she repeated louder, "You can write to me. I'll write you back, Dad."

He said nothing but his shoulders began to shake, as he sobbed. "I appreciate that." He managed after a time. "I'd be right proud." And then he continued on until he disappeared into the silvery mist where the sheriff waited.

They silently moved in closer to her - all of them forming a tight ring with Hannah and Adam at its center.

"Thank you, fellas." She said her low voice husky with emotion. "You've been real patient and . . ."

"C'mon Sis," Crane said, cutting her off. "It's cold out here. Let's go home."


	16. Chapter 16

The shuffling of boots on the porch told her they were hesitant to come inside. She couldn't imagine it would be any kind of good news. Yet, she wanted to know and their hesitation was irritating. Sometimes their collective protectiveness was frustrating. She'd been on her own most of her life - even when her mother was alive. It was pretty tough for her mother to work three jobs _and_ be with her. So, she became independent - out of necessity more than anything. But now, thanks to Adam's quick grin, and dimples she found herself at the center of a large, protective circle; six brothers. Technically, only Brian and Crane could call her their _little_ sister, and Brian often did, they all acted like she was as a young as Guthrie. Crane who was just seventeen days older than her was so tender hearted that she often found herself treating him as though he was the younger sibling. She understood her good fortune, and even recognized that complaining about a family that loved her and wanted to protect her was behaving like a spoiled child - and yet, her independent nature fought against it from time to time.

She paced the living room, waiting. She had heard the phone ring and had heard Brian say, "Hello, Sheriff." And it wasn't too long after that when Daniel had generously decided to take the three youngest into town for ice cream. She could hear their voices, talking in low tones on the porch right now - Adam, Brian, Crane, Sheriff Jackson - her protectors. It was unusual for her to hold back and not just walk out the front door and demand to be included, but the last few days with her father had left her tender and raw. She hesitated her hand on the door, and then shaking her head at herself said, "C'mon McFadden, you aren't some stupid helpless female victim. Snap out of it."

They stopped talking as soon as she swung the door open, all of them looking slightly guilty and nervous.

"Well, hello there fellas. Don't stop talking on account of me." She said with a wry grin. "Unless, you are all out here talking about me."

Brian laughed nervously, and Adam said, "Hannah . . ."

"Good evening, Mrs. McFadden." Sheriff Jackson said tipping his hat at her. "I'm sorry for bothering you folks this evening."

"So what is the news that is so terrible you sent the little ones out, and had to brief my security force before talking to me." She folded her arms over her chest.

"Hannah, it isn't like that." Adam said, shaking his head at her. "We just . . ."

"What?" She asked with eyebrows raised. "Didn't think I could handle it? Needed to protect me?"

"You make that sound like its a bad thing." Brian said to her.

"You know, for a cattle rancher, you've got a real big city point of view sometimes." Crane said to her. "So, we're supposed to just let you read it in the paper? Treat you like you a hired hand?"

"Crane . . ." She began.

"He's got a point, honey." Adam said with a grin. He stepped closer to her, sliding his arm around his shoulders. "Listen, baby, we all know you're the toughest cowboy here." He kissed her cheek, and she relented, relaxing against him.

"Alright, Sheriff Jackson, sorry for the family fight. What's the bad news?" She asked.

"Well parts of it isn't really good, I'll give you that." The Sheriff began. "I was telling Adam here that it will probably be in the paper tomorrow, so I thought I'd let you folks know first. They are transferring him back tomorrow in the morning."

"I figured as much."

"He had some outstanding warrants, and he broke parole." The sheriff explained, gently.

"There are some other charges too, darlin'." Adam said to her. "Back in Vallecito, and a couple of towns between here and there - there were some robberies."

"Oh." Her response was quiet. She remained where she was, Adam's arm tight around her shoulders. Her eyes were down, as she considered this information thoughtfully. "He'll be sent away for quite awhile then - all the charges here and everything else too."

"No one here is pressing charges." Sheriff Taylor Jackson said quietly.

"What?" She looked up at him with wide, surprised eyes. "What do you mean?"

"They all dropped the charges. Every family."

She stepped out of Adam's embrace and turned to face him, and Brian and Crane who stood beside him. "What did you do?"

"Me?" Adam asked, a hand to his chest. "Nothing."

"It wasn't anything we did." Brian explained.

"He stole from all of them. They know it, and I know it. What do you mean no one is pressing charges?" Her dark blue eyes, were filled with fire.

"They got their things back." Crane offered.

"Not their money. The money is gone." She said angrily. "You can't expect me to believe that everyone in town just decided to let that go? Brian!"

"Oh, sure blame me!" He sighed. "Listen, sister, this is the first we heard of it. We were just talking about it with Taylor when you came storming out here with your feminist sensibilities all in a twist! Besides none of us have gone into town since last night."

"But it doesn't make any sense!" She turned to face the sheriff.

"Well, this town has kind of a soft spot for the McFaddens, and like Crane said they got their things back - all of it. And it isn't like he isn't gonna have to face the music still - he is. It's just that we look out for our own here." Sheriff Jackson explained.

"But why?" Her eyes were bright with tears. "I don't understand."

"You're a McFadden, honey." Adam said gently, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around her.

"McFaddens belong to Murphys." Sheriff Jackson continued for him. "And we take care of our own." He tipped his hat at them, and left.

"I don't understand." She repeated, confusion on her face.

"It's just how it is, Hannah." Brian said. "It's not something that can be explained. People here aren't perfect, but they understand that his choices had nothing to do with you, and the last thing they would want is to have a hand in causing you more pain."

She nodded her head, reaching up to wipe at an escaping tear. "I didn't know what it was like to be part of a place. We always moved again and again and again. This is . . ." She swallowed hard. "This is . . . I don't know what to say. How can I respond to that level of kindness? Some of those folks hardly know me."

"They know us, have known us all our lives." Crane told her softly. "They can see how happy Adam is, and how much better Daniel, Evan, Ford and Guthrie's lives have been since you came here. They made a promise to the memory of our parents, to us and each other that they would take care of us. And they have." He shrugged his shoulders. "I guess they still are."

"I just . . ." She paused, unable to continue. "I've never known such kindness."

"Welcome home, sweetheart." Adam said kissing her cheek. "You belong to Murphys now."

***7***

His heart was actually pounding and he thought for a brief moment he might just pass out. He wiped his sweaty palms on the front of his pants and then looked up at the front door.

"You okay, there?" She asked with a laugh.

"Um. . yeah. You sure this what we should do?" He asked her again.

"Yes." She said firmly, and taking his hand in hers said. "It is going to be fine."

The door swung open just then and Hannah stepped out onto the front porch. Her smile was wide and bright. "I was beginning to think you were gonna make a run for it."

"I considered it." He answered. "Twice."

"Glad to see you found your courage." She winked at him.

"Caroline," Brian said, finding himself still shaking with nervousness, "This is my sister, Hannah. Hannah, this is Caroline."

"It is so nice to meet you." Hannah said reaching out and pulling the blond woman in for a hug. "I've already told the boys to be on their best behavior, so there's no reason for you to be frightened."

"I'm not as scared as he is." Caroline said with a laugh.

"Well, I'm not going to ease _his_ fears any. Yesterday, I was helping with the cattle and fell over in the mud and he just laughed and laughed." She glared at him. "You and I will have to sit close and I'll whisper things to you, and leave him to wonder what we are saying."

"I knew I'd like you." Caroline said with a grin.

"You know, you aren't being very fair." Brian complained.

"I'm being very fair and kind to Caroline, here." She said opening the door to them. "I am just not extending the same kindness to you."

Caroline stepped inside the front room, and Brian followed behind her. As he passed by Hannah at the door he pleaded, "Don't tell her anything embarrassing! Please! You are my only ally here. Those yahoos won't behave and you know it!"

Hannah only grinned.

***7***

"Moss!"

He stretched out his hand, eager to receive the envelope.

"Letter from your mommy, Moss?" A harsh voice teased him.

"Shut up, Barry!" He replied, slicing open the letter with his index finger. "Ain't nobody writing to you!"

"Whatever. I'll be out in 18. You will still be here, clinging to a dingy piece of paper!"

James Moss completely ignored him, absorbed by the neat writing that covered both sides of the page. He leaned back against the chair in which he sat lost in a world far away from the dark prison walls.

"Moss! Come on, man! Listen up!"

He was shocked to see one of the guards leaning over him.

"What?" He said, immediately rising in panic. "I didn't hear."

"Yeah, I know. Exercise. Line up."

He looked over and saw the familiar lines that led out to the yard. Nodding, his head, he shoved the letter in his pocket and took his proper spot in line, hoping that he wouldn't be punished for being slow to respond. He was thankful Dawkins wasn't on duty - he was more likely to hit first and ask questions later.

He made his way to his usual spot, and settled on a bench. Glancing around, he pulled the letter out of his pocket again, re-reading the words.

"Must be a letter from your girl."

He looked up to see the same prison guard standing over him. He lifted one hand to shade his eyes, and better see the guard's face.

"Well, Waters that's pretty typical of you - always expecting things to be smutty." He shook his head.

"I blame it on the environment." The guard joked ruefully. "'nother letter from your daughter?"

"Yep." He said turning again to her words.

"Must be a good woman to put up with all your crap!"

"She is." He answered without looking up. "No thanks to me."

"Well, at least you see things clearly." Waters laughed.

"I didn't raise her. Ran out on her. Too much of a bastard to ever bother to even think of taking care of her. Spent all my days trying to find an easy dollar and bottle of Jack."

"You sound like a real jackass, Moss. I wouldn't write to you."

"I wouldn't write to me, either." He shook his head and held up the letter, waving it in front of the guard's face. "But she does." He sighed, leaning back, his eyes on the blue sky above the him. "Wanna see something else that will amaze you?"

The guard folded his arms across his chest, waiting patiently, while Jim Moss, reached back into the envelope, pulling out a small photograph. He handed it to Waters.

"Who's this?" He asked him.

"My granddaughter!" Jim said smiling broadly. "Ain't she a beauty? You ever believe a sorry son of a bitch like me would be somebody's granddaddy?"

"No." Waters admitted. He handed the photo back to Jim. "She's beautiful. Too bad she'll be grown before you ever get to meet her."

He took the photo back, holding reverently in his fingers. He sobered at the guard's words, nodding his head. "I suppose, but I never thought she'd even speak to me - let alone let me see a picture of this little beauty. It's better than I deserve anyways."

"Seems to me if we are still breathing in and out, we are getting better than we deserve." Waters said, and with a nod at Moss, continued his way across the prison yard.

James Moss sat on a bench in the gray yard of the prison, studying a photograph of a tiny baby girl. All around him men argued and swore, bellowed and shoved. The steady rhythm of a basketball hitting the ground over and over echoed off the stone walls that surrounded them. And yet, his mind, was far, far, past the walls and city just beyond them. It crossed the flat desert of California and climbed up into the green hills, where a laughing, teasing group of brothers paused in their work at the sound of honk of a jeep not far below. He could imagine them all rushing to meet her, a baby seat strapped in the back. Fifty conversations would fly around as they somehow managed to consume every scrap of food she brought. No doubt, they would pass the tiny baby from one doting uncle to the next, and all the while he could imagine his daughter's smiling face, surrounded by her loving family, her eyes bright with joy.

***7***

_Author's Note: I want to say thank you to everyone who has taken the time to leave a review. I really appreciate it. I started writing these SBSB stories a couple of years ago, and was writing from memory. It was after I had written a few stories that I got a hold of some really bad copies of the show, and re-watched the pilot. Hannah tells Guthrie in that first episode that her father has died, and I felt kind of silly for writing stories about her having a less-than-ideal father. Then I ordered a copy of the script of the pilot, which wasn't too interesting except for the fact that it had character notes for all of the characters. (This is where I discovered that Adam was only 17 when his parent's died - and the original script had him dropping out of high school to raise his brothers). I found it interesting that the notes regarding Hannah followed my imagined backstory. Her mother worked a lot, and they moved around, until her mother's death - when Hannah was also about 17 at which point she went to live with an aunt, but she never truly felt home until she came to the Circle Bar Seven. I just thought i'd explain my divergence from official McFadden lore. My brain sort of got hooked on the idea that she was the orphan not the orphaned brothers. Anywho, that's my explanation and whatnot. Thanks for reading!_

_P.S. Someone please explain to me autocorrect's obsession with changing __**of **__to __**if**__ - it is driving me NUTS!_


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